


A Jungle Full of Hunger

by tameimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester in Purgatory, Eating Disorders, Gen, Other, Post-Purgatory, Post-Purgatory Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 07, Purgatory, Season/Series 08, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:36:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tameimpala/pseuds/tameimpala
Summary: White searing hot anger pulsated through his entire body. Dean wanted nothing more than to sink his own teeth into the monster’s arm in revenge and finally taste something. After all, it was an eye for an eye. Or in this case- an arm for an arm.The only food source in Purgatory is Dean, but what if he developed his own taste for the creatures who hunted him?Set post-season seven and during season eight- AU canon divergence





	1. Among the living here among the dead

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles come from The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri. I was thinking about how Dean (and Sam) echo Dante's journey through the three realms of the dead, the inferno (hell), purgatory, and paradise (heaven).
> 
> The premise that I've always been fascinated by is that there is no hunger in purgatory- at least according to Benny. So I wanted to tweak this, especially for Dean. We know that hell turned Dean into a torturer, so I wanted purgatory to turn Dean into a different kind of monster. This is my canon-adjacent retelling. Enjoy!

*

#  ________________

  


  


After all his time, whether it had been a month or 100 years, Dean was still surprised that plants grew here.

  


He had travelled upstairs to the grace of heaven and downstairs to the condemnation of hell, visited the attic and the basement, seen both sides of the coin. Neither one of these trips had been particularly enjoyable but he had to admit that hell certainly had been… Well, _hell_. 

And now he was here. Purgatory. And where in the world would you class this place as being exactly? 

That was the thing wasn’t it? The one main problem that the famed Dean Winchester had was that he wasn’t even _in_ the world.

He vaguely recalled some demon telling him that purgatory was hell-adjacent. But can’t that be said about anywhere? Earth certainly felt hell-adjacent most of the time, and other times it actually felt worse than hell itself- and he knew that better than anyone. 

At least during his time in damnation there’d been a routine there, torture torture _torture_ all the live long day, strung up like a pig in a butchers shop alongside his fellow condemned prisoners. At the end of it all Alastair would appear in his face, offering the blade- the same thing day in day out until he broke. And then even when it was himself inflicting pain on other souls his days still revolved around torture _torture_ torture… It was predictable. Easy. Not exactly well-paid work in the long run but he had been damn good at his job. 

  


_“I want one soul carved up and ready to go Dean. When you’re done you can grab a fresh one.”_

  


But on earth there was no structure. Plots, plans, and rules belonged to angels and demons. Humans on the other hand have no order, not really, not when you strip it all down to its bare bones. There is only chaos, just random horrible unjust acts and bad hands every time you deal no matter what people do or like to think otherwise.

But there had to be some structure somewhere, perhaps he would find it in the geography of this new realm that he now called home. After all, he felt sure that maps and locations had always given him purpose before he ended up in this place…

  


_Hey kids, can anybody point out were Monsterland is on the map?_

So we have the attic, the basement and this is… The en-suite? The back garden? _The store cupboard?_

Yes. That’s the one. Purgatory is definitely the store cupboard of the universe.

  


But his restless mind returned to the demon who wanted to conquer this place… What was his name? Cooper? _No._ Crawford maybe? _Hm, close but no cigar…_ It was on the tip of his tongue. C. It began with a C. It began with a smarmy call of _“Hello Boys.”_ , began with some deal to fuck you over with... 

Then it came to him. A is for Adam, B is for Bobby, C is for _Crowley._ That smug limey salesman, Dean could just about piece together an image of him in his head. The slick tailored suit appeared, clear as day. He just couldn’t conjure up a face. His memories were starting to slip here in this endless cycle of hunt, kill, repeat. Trying to remember his life on earth was like trying to catch the last memories of a fading but vivid dream. When he caught it, everything came flooding back… But sometimes… sometimes he couldn’t quite grasp it and the memories fell away, leaving him empty and unsure- just another mindless creature in a cesspool of monsters.

It was a sensation he was used to. He went through a similar experience whilst his humanity was chipped away from him as he tore into countless souls and honestly? He was getting sick and tired of fighting it now.

But today he had grasped the faded dream. He remembered everything that had happened and everything that must be done. And as Dean lay on the dry dusty ground staring straight at a small sapling whilst a rugaru tried to tear into his back, he thought clearly of an 8-year-old Sam who was excitedly telling him about the Sunflowers that his class had started to grow.

  


_“They’re only sprouts right now but they’ll grow up to be real big.”_

  


Dean wondered what kind of flower this sprout would grow into. If it was anything like the other living organisms in this fever dream it would turn out to be a rabid poisonous mongrel of a plant. But he liked to think, to pretend, that maybe he would walk back to this spot after he dispatched of the latest monster currently trying it’s best to make a meal out of him and find a yellow Sunflower waiting there for him. It was plausible, nothing obeyed the rules here because there were no rules. Just instinct and hunger and most of all, survival. 

So very similar to home.

The hunter kicked out at the snarling rugaru and attempted to buck him off his back. After the third attempt Dean managed to get him off, but not before the creature’s small but sharp teeth sunk into the flesh of his upper arm. 

“Son of a…” He exclaimed as he used the arm that didn’t have a rugaru attached to it to reach out for the blade that he’d dropped when the creature had charged at him. Typically, it was a little out of his reach and his fingers pawed at the dirty ground ineffectively. After a few seconds of struggling he got a grip on the handle and twisted his body away from the rugaru, painfully pulling his arm free of the creature’s teeth as he moved, but tearing away a chunk of flesh with it in the process.

The rugaru fell backwards onto the ground and writhed around in ecstasy as he chewed on the fresh meat. Dean watched on as the monster, who had obviously been driven insane by hunger just like all of the other purgatory natives, moaned and growled as he ate, savouring the first taste of human flesh in centuries. The hunter started to feel something churning in his stomach as he stood up to deliver a fatal blow with the knife whilst the creature was distracted... Something that wasn’t pain or disgust.

It was jealousy. 

Because Dean was desperately hungry too, but he hadn’t truly felt it until now.

As he watched the creature eat the flesh that he’d torn from the hunter’s arm in a feverish frenzy, Dean took his opportunity and brought the blade down hard, slitting his throat with practised precision. The rugaru’s bloodshot yellow eyes widened in shock and met Dean’s own cold green ones. It’s jaw slackened and stopped rapidly chewing as blood began to gush out of his neck, the monster's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as it gargled and spluttered. 

Finally the last sounds of life left the rugaru and Dean looked down on it’s body in disgust.

“You didn’t deserve that.” Dean mumbled, the words fell out of his mouth clumsily. He hadn’t spoken much since being here, mostly just yelled, at least for the first couple of days. Yelled for an angel who’d abandoned him in the dark. 

He hadn’t given up on finding that son of a bitch, no sir. _No siree bob._ Where had he heard that before? From an old coot in a salvage yard perhaps? He swore he had the name a second ago, the word was wrapped in whiskey, understanding, and wisdom. 

Dean let the thought drift away as he looked across to the small sprout in the dirt. Only this time it was quite badly battered, a part of it had up-rooted itself from the dry ground and Dean knew it must have happened during the struggle. Perhaps he had done it or maybe the rugaru, either way it didn’t matter. 

His clear grip on the day was starting to fade as the long night was drawing in.

Despite this, Dean’s mind repeated the mantra he’d held in his head since day one of landing in this beauty spot… _Find the angel._

He _would_ find the angel; whose name was on the tip of his tongue- he just couldn’t quite reach it again. But something told him he would remember it eventually, that if Dean just caught a glimpse of him he could find a way to piece together everything… a voice drumming softly at the back of Dean’s head told him that if he found the angel he could find an exit too.

That was all distracting him from the here and now- because right _now_ Dean was looking down upon the corpse of the rugaru he’d just killed with a strange expression on his dirt-ridden face.

He held onto the wound on his left arm with a firm grip as he felt the warm blood sluggishly pour out of the torn flesh. He was aware of the pain but it somehow didn’t feel like it was a part of him, instead a feeling much worse was overriding it all, clouding everything. In fact, all he felt as he gripped the injured arm was a deep painful hunger- one that threatened to drive him insane. 

Dean bent down over the dead rugaru and glared at its half open mouth. He could just about glimpse a corner of light skin poking out between it’s sharp teeth, taunting him.

Searing white hot anger pulsated through his entire body, Dean wanted nothing more than to sink his own teeth into the monster’s arm in revenge and finally taste something.

  


After all, it was an eye for an eye. Or in this case- an arm for an arm.

  



	2. Long since we all were slain by violence

* *

#  ________________

  


  


“You sure you saw him?”

“With my own two eyes. For the last time, I’m not making this up.” Replied Donte angrily, kicking a passing rock to ease his annoyance.

“Calm down chief, just checking you ain’t gone stir crazy- wouldn’t be the first.” Benny followed his companion through the endless bare trees. He didn’t like his fellow vampire very much and he was pretty certain Donte hated his guts, but they had a mutual goal- even if they wanted different outcomes. Not that the other man knew that particular fact. 

Actually there were a lot of things Donte didn’t know, but he loved to think that he did.

“I saw him, like I told you the last twenty times. And even if I hadn’t, I could smell a human a mile off.” He raised his head pompously and Benny stifled a laugh, he would have thought the guy was joking if not for the smug smile on his face.

“Sure you could, why with your superior tracking skills it’s a wonder it’s taken us so long to catch a trail.” Drawled the other vampire, his voice dripping with false admiration. “You just enjoying our nature hike too much, not want it to end?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Growled Donte.

“Woah there brother,” Benny stopped and raised his hands in surrender, “I’m just sayin’.”

“Yeah you’re always just saying. And I ain’t your brother neither.”

“Well, we are kin.” He moved to catch up with Donte who’d stalked ahead of him, he was now on the edge of the darker and denser part of the forest, they would soon meet a sharp incline if memory served Benny correct. He'd been in this bleak rabid jungle for decades now and knew certain parts well. Granted he didn't know the whole realm perfectly but at least he maintained some sense of navigation, unlike Donte who'd been here since 1902 and couldn't recognise a single rock even if Benny began to cave his head in with it.

“That means fuck all to me and it sure as hell makes you no brother of mine.” Donte called back to him as he lent against a gnarled tree. It really was a wonder why they kept baiting each other. Benny supposed that two wasps caught under a glass had nothing else to do but sting each other. 

The other vampire waited until Benny caught up with him until he surged ahead once more, “Just can it alright? I just wanna find and gut this human before anybody else does.”

“Message received friend.” The southern vampire answered under his breath, but Donte heard and glared back at him. 

Benny was sure that he was going to be on the receiving end of a list 5 miles long of why they weren’t friends when he paused, spotting something splattered on the side of the rock.

“Hold up.” Said Benny before Donte could open his mouth to speak.

“Urgh, you really can’t keep your trap shut for 5 minutes can you?”

“No I mean hold _up_ asshole and _look_. ” The vampire pointed down towards the earth in frustration. 

“At what?” Asked Donte obliviously as he slipped his eyes downwards.

“All over damn ground and up the rock!” Benny was just barely resisting the urge to rub his companions face in the damn evidence, “ _Blood._ ”

“I can see that,” The vampire replied with a nonchalant shrug and studied the oxidised brown smudges on both the rocks and the ground beneath it. “Prob’ly some mindless scrapping.”

“That’s too much blood for a scrap. And there’s tracks, like something got dragged.”

“Look at you go.” Smirked Donte as Benny started to follow the trail. The other vampire just scoffed and continued to follow the two tracks up towards higher ground. 

  


Before too long, they happened upon a bizarre scene. One that was certainly out of place by purgatory's standards, maybe even by hell's too.

Propped up against a withered grey tree lay a heavily mutilated body. One of the corpse’s cheeks had been cut clean off with almost surgical precision to reveal a grizzly window into its mouth, dried blood also covered its throat and the accompanying deep cut through the oesophagus. The sleeves to its already ragged shirt were torn away to reveal two arms that had been cut free of their meat so that the slick white bone could be seen beneath. The stench was awful, even for this dank endless battleground. Benny’s sharp eyes looked down to see the gently smoking embers of a well-made fire pit. On it lay three long sticks, their sharpened ends were streaked with blood and a few small strings of cooked meat still clung to the wood. 

Benny had gotten used to the dirt and filth here, but this… This smell of the fresh meticulous skinning of some monster and the baked stench of the smouldering fire pit was something different entirely.

“God, what the hell did that?" Came Donte’s voice from behind the trees. He moved in to circle the dissected corpse, yet he walked gingerly as if worried it might spring back to life. "Never seen anyone leave their kill like that before.” 

“This wasn’t a kill, it was a meal.” Replied Benny coldly, moving into the fray too.

“You don’t mean… that’s the human?”

Benny raised an eyebrow and internally chided himself for ever partnering with this fool. The only thing that stopped him from putting Donte down was that he would be very useful cannon fodder in the near future.

“Nah it’s not, your sense of smell didn’t catch that?” Sniggered Benny as he walked into Donte’s path, preventing his circling of the body. The wiser vampire bent down to peer into what was left of the creature’s face.

“Shut the hell up.” Donte snarled at him from behind, “What is it then?”

Benny studied the corpse for a couple minutes more, then turned to glare at the other vampire.

“A sliced and diced rugaru I’d say, judging by the teeth and shrivelled skin. I’ve tangled with a few of them before… This one though, someone decided to have themselves a little barbecue and use our friend here as meat.”

“But why the fuck would they cook it?” Barked Donte in disbelief, “Who here is that civilised that they’d cook their meals?”

“We wouldn’t.” Replied Benny bleakly, “Monsters wouldn’t. But there’s an outsider in our home remember.”

It actually took Donte a few moments to remember. But finally the pieces clicked into place, “You think the human did this?”

“Fairly certain, look at his mouth.” Benny lent into the dead rugaru’s face and beckoned Donte closer.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Asked the other vampire, keeping his distance.

“Because there’s human blood on it you fool.”

Donte suddenly sprung to life and pushed him aside roughly. He reached out a hand and ran a finger over the yellow pointed teeth and raised his now blood-stained fingers to his nose. He breathed in heavily then let out a hungry growl. Donte plunged the fingers into his mouth and sucked them dry of the blood in seconds, moaning in delight.

Benny watched on, he could feel his fangs threatening to descend but he kept the impulse at bay. He didn’t want to allow the taste of human blood on his tongue. Especially not when he needed the human they were hunting alive in order to escape this place, it would just complicate matters. 

Although, as he watched Donte’s eyes and mouth open, his dilated pupils glaring at Benny and his fangs fully descended from his gums, he realised something. 

Donte was finally going to lead them on an accurate path towards the human. He had tasted his blood now.

  


Now all Benny had to worry about was what was going to happen when they finally got face to face with this monster-eating psychopath.

  



	3. And after food is hungrier than before

* * *

#  ________________

  


  


Since devouring the rugaru, the hunger had crept up on Dean much quicker, as if it had reconnected a lose signal inside his brain. At first he became worried that this was a side effect, and for a split second Dean convinced himself he had been infected by the tainted meat. In lieu of a mirror the man raised a shaking hand towards his face to feel his grimy skin and poked inside his mouth to check that his teeth hadn't become pointed. 

He was relieved to find that he still felt human, at least on the outside. 

The embers from the fire he sat beside were dying out but a few of the branches in the make-shift fire pit were still holding onto the last of the flames. Rancid smoke raised steadily from the dying fire and Dean breathed it in like it was fresh air. The smell burnt his nostrils and coated his throat with ash but he didn’t care, it made him feel something. 

His whole body had turned completely numb after guzzling down his latest meal. Despite his aching need to eat again it had actually taken a quite a while to find a suitable candidate. 

He had taken down a werewolf the other day that he’d considered for consumption, but ended up discarding it. As he stood over it's dead body he felt the hunger nagging incessantly at him, willing him on. His thin hunting knife shook in his hand, wanting to fillet the monster right where it lay. 

But doubt and common sense leaked through. 

He’d been lucky with the rugaru, they couldn’t turn humans. They were born not made. Monster-genetics lay dormant inside of them until they took their first taste of human flesh. 

Werewolves on the other hand, one bite from one of them would turn a person. Dean wasn’t exactly sure of what would happen if he were the one to bite into the wolf, but in the end he had decided to err on the side of caution. 

Could he even be turned in purgatory? Was it his physical body that was trapped here or his soul? Had the pulsations and final explosion of the head leviathan in a deluge of black ooze killed him, or had it simply transported him here? 

His head burned with questions he didn’t even want answers to. What would he do with them even if he did? The hunter was sick of detangling the metaphysical rules of this monster toxic waste dump. Dean just wanted to eat again. 

  


The fire was all but extinguished now and he knew he should move on. Dean had been in one place for too long and was increasing the probability that something would stumble upon him. However, he did not find himself in a hurry to leave. 

_Let them come,_ thought his starved brain, _let them find me and meet their end._

Despite his bravado he was immediately on alert as he heard something move to the right of him. He whipped his head around and grabbed his knife, ready to strike, before he realized that it was only the corpse of the ghoul he'd just eaten slowly listing to the side. 

A while back Dean had propped the mutilated body up next to him as he ate pieces of it's cooked flesh. The ghoul's unseeing clouded eyes seemed to watch him in horror but it didn't seem to put Dean off his food. If anything, he had devoured the calf meat like a hungry dog and spent even less time cooking it over the fire than he had with his last meal. 

As he watched the ghoul fall away from him with a detached expression on his bloody face, he couldn’t help but think about the irony of eating these creatures who prayed on humans, but was surprised that he felt little justice in it. 

He hadn't suddenly found himself at the top of the food chain- he was still bait. A worm that fights back is still a worm. And annoyingly there were monsters that he felt were unsuitable to eat such as vampires, who like werewolves turned humans, consuming the blood from one of them could easily give him fangs. 

His thoughts then turned to other beings who were suitable and began to list them off. 

  


_Skinwalkers, wraiths, crocotta, sirens, kitsune, shtriga, rakshasa, djinn, okami, shifters, vetala, rawheads..._

  


They were all here, ready to be diced up into pieces. 

  


And one other. 

_Angel._

  


Dean felt his stomach drop. _No._ No, he couldn't. Their angelic grace is merely contained inside vessels, human vessels. To eat them, along with demons, would be too close to cannibalism. 

_So what would you call what you're doing now?_ Asked the dead eyes of the butchered ghoul laying on the forest floor beside him. 

The hunter scrambled to his feet in surprise, glaring at the fallen body, certain that it would speak again. 

When it didn't Dean let out an unhinged bark of laughter. He was truly beginning to lose his mind in here. If someone were to scoop out his brain and place it under a microscope they would find it covered in hairline cracks, ready to break under the slightest touch. 

 

  


* * * * * *

 

  


The two vampires had been tracking the human more effectively than before, due to Donte sampling the small amount of his blood that was left on the teeth of the rugaru. At first it took a long while for him to snap out of the sudden rush that the first taste of blood in 100 years had given the vampire, but eventually Benny managed to get him to focus after punching some sense into him. 

In fact, they’d very nearly ended up in an all out fight until the wiser vampire reminded Donte that they had a goal bigger than their hatred: _hunt the human._

Reluctantly, Donte let it go and focused on trying to follow the scent of the human like a pale imitation of a bloodhound. He took off into the trees so fast that Benny had difficultly keeping up. The Cajun attempted to follow the loose vampire whilst also carefully scanning the area, preferring not to run into this particular human without a plan. 

However despite their new advantage, it still took them two days to find another butchered corpse. And this one turned out to be even more disfigured than the last. 

Donte stood in front of the body in alarm, staring down at the exposed leg bone and missing bicep. He stayed frozen by a pile of ashes and branches, the only remains left of the fire the human had obviously set. 

Benny eventually approached the scene after checking they weren't being stalked themselves. He roughly kicked aside the burnt sticks and bent over the body that was lying at an awkward angle on the dirty forest floor. 

“Hmm, can't tell what it is.” Benny muttered as he poked at the bloody corpse with his makeshift knife, checking her fingernails for claws and wrists for a wraith spike. When he found nothing, he quickly moved to lift up the female's lip to check for sharpened teeth but once again came up empty, “Best guess it's either a shifter or a ghoul.” 

The other vampire make a dismissive noise and glared at Benny, his horrified demeanour clashing heavily with Benny's calm exterior. 

“It don't matter, just look at her arm and leg!” Cried Donte pointing wildly, “Completely hacked away, the rugaru weren't left like that! 

“Maybe our friend is getting a taste for it. Maybe he's just as bloodthirsty as any other monster in this place.” 

Donte scoffed and kicked the leg of the fallen unidentified creature, “You mind stopping your philosophizing for one damn minute?” 

“Depends.” Smirked Benny, raising his brow, “You got a scent?” 

“Fuck you I've got a scent.” The other vampire bit back savagely. After turning away from Benny he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, honing his senses. The southern vampire watched on and tried not to laugh. Within a few seconds Donte's head whipped to the right, eyes bulging out of his head as though he'd found something. 

Benny only caught him say something along the lines of _“He's close.”_ before Donte took off again. 

  


Left amongst the dust, Benny sneered after the other vampire. Donte had ran after a ‘scent’ multiple times during the last two days only to lead them to another kill left behind by the human, so he was in no hurry to catch up with him. Instead he stood by the body of the latest corpse as he watched Donte sprint through the trees yet again, his striped shirt and braces only stayed visible for a few more moments before Benny completely lost sight of him. 

The grip around the knife that he’d fashioned from branches and sharpened rocks became tighter as he stared off into the distance. The weapon had served Benny well in his fifty years in this wilderness. But he had soon discovered that not every predator here found the need for one. They favored claws and teeth whereas Benny longed to cling onto some humanity, no matter how small. 

He was shaken from his thoughts when he heard the faint sounds of a struggle in the distance. 

Seemed like Donte had been correct for once. After all, even a stopped clock is right two times a day. 

Benny ran off in the direction of the battle, but kept his knees bent to keep the sound of his approach to a minimum. 

Blood rushed through his ears as he felt his heart rate quicken. This was it, after all this time he was finally going to find his meal-ticket out of here. Only thing was, he had to stop the human from becoming a meal himself. 

But after all the body’s he’d left in his wake, perhaps Benny was the most at risk. 

It didn’t take long to spot two figures fighting in the dust of the forest floor. When he caught a glimpse of Donte’s rabid face growling and snapping over the human, Benny knew that their feeble partnership was over. 

His first order of business was to put him down and hopefully gain some favor from the human frantically struggling beneath the vampire. 

Benny felt his teeth descend as he sprang forward and tackled Donte to get him away from the man. The two vampires tumbled on the ground until Benny found himself looming over Donte with his blade raised high. 

Donte’s eyes bulged in their sockets as he looked up at Benny in surprise. His fangs were clean, the bastard hadn’t even gotten a taste of human blood that he’d been starving for, that Benny had told him he wanted too. And he hadn’t lied, he thirsted for blood just like him. But unlike Donte, Benny had never let the hunger override his brain. 

Benny brought the blade down to the left side of his body, watching as Donte’s head followed it, before dragging the weapon to the right with all his might across vampire’s neck, severing his head. 

The grizzly sound of bone and skin ripping from its body filled the surrounding area. 

  


Donte lay in the dirt in two pieces, the expression on his decapitated head was still one of shock. 

  


Panting heavily, Benny felt the presence of the human hovering dangerously behind him. He turned his head, teeth still bared, to get his first proper look at the man who had invaded this monstrous place. 

The vampire almost did a double take as he stared at the human who could only be described as a walking sepia and crimson nightmare. He was almost completely drenched in mostly oxidised blood that wasn’t his own, it splattered up his face like evidence of a previous battle, or perhaps a previous carving. 

The parts of him that weren’t soaked in blood were caked in dirt and grime. The gory camouflage made him blend in perfectly with their surroundings, so much so that Benny wondered if a creature like this would ever want to leave purgatory- even if he offered him an escape plan. 

  


The man stood in a defensive stance with a blade not too dissimilar to his own clenched in his hand, but his face looked almost as rabid as Donte’s had.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donte's name is a reference to Dante, writer of the Divine Comedy. He was the vampire that Benny pulls off Dean and kills when they first met so not my original character, just a more fleshed out one! Literally.


	4. Set in the shape of that cold animal

* * * *

#  ________________

  


  


The two men stared each other down as a breeze ran through the trees, shifting the dust beneath them. Benny began to move slowly upwards, his hands reached out in a calm fashion as though trying not to spook the human. 

Something told him that all it would take was one wrong move and his own decapitated head would be lying next to Donte’s. 

“What?” Benny said cautiously and slowly, like he was trying to calm down a lion who looked seconds away from tearing him to shreds, “No thanks for saving your hide?” 

Dean glared at the vampire with murderous eyes. His hand trembled on the weapon he’d picked up from the first vampire he’d been hunting. When he’d stalked him through the endless trees he’d assumed it was some other monster, one that was suitable to eat. When Dean caught him and saw what it was he was bitterly disappointed, but it didn’t take long for anger to overwhelm him. He pinned the creature to a tree with his silver knife and beheaded it with it's own blade. 

When the body dropped to the floor Dean figured it hadn’t been such a waste of time, at least he’d gained a new tool to carve up more monsters. 

But in that small moment of contemplation, while his guard was temporarily down, he was rushed to the ground by another vampire. This one seemed out of its mind with hunger, snarling and snapping his sharp teeth above Dean’s throat as he struggled for his blade. The whole situation had given him a sickening sense of déjà vu, the chunk of flesh missing from Dean’s left arm also supplied him with a jolt of phantom pain. 

When he had taken one last desperate stretch to grab the weapon miraculously the weight of the monster on top of him had suddenly disappeared. Dean scrambled to his feet just in time to see another creature behead its own kin. 

 

Now as Dean listened to the final vampire speak to him very carefully in his thick Louisianan accent, he wondered whether he should give him the same death that he had dealt to the others. 

He didn’t reply to his sarcastic question. Dean just took a threatening step closer, which made Benny retreat and raise his hands even further up. 

“Woah, woah. I ain’t looking for a fight. And trust me, killing me would be a mistake.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow and felt the dried mud on his face crack. Yet still he didn’t speak, he only stopped his advance and expected to hear a threat. But surprisingly the vampire offered him something else. 

“I got something you need.” Benny implored, “A way out.” 

Dean dropped his head a little and let out a small bark of laughter. 

“No such thing.” He growled in a low voice that cracked at the edges. 

“What?” Asked the vampire, not understanding his almost feral sounding words. 

Dean took another step forward and attempted to speak clearer, “No. Such. _Thing.”_

“There is if you’re human.” Counteracted Benny, backing away, “That is, if you still are one.” 

“I’m still....” Dean began defiantly but faltered as his thoughts drifted towards the unnatural things he’d done here... He had succumbed to this new way of living because there had been no hope. No way out. Only blood, bone, and hunger. 

But now, if the vampire was telling the truth, there was light at the end of this dark tunnel. Maybe this was his last chance for salvation. Question was, did he deserve it? 

“I’m human.” Asserted Dean, but his voice betrayed him. He sounded more like a child trying to cover up a lie. 

The vampire seemed to sense it too and this time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. _Methinks the lady doth protest too much,_ Benny thought and chuckled quietly to himself. But he didn’t dare say it out loud. 

Nevertheless, he was surprised that the human hadn’t jumped at his offer of escape. Maybe it was time for a different tactic... 

“You sure about that? Because me and my dearly departed friend here been finding your scraps for days... Carcasses left next to your little cook outs... ” Benny gestured around at the barren trees as though the evidence of what Dean had done was piled high around them, “You are what you eat pal, and you might be a whole other creature by now.” 

“I’m _human.”_ Dean repeated angrily through gritted teeth. His blade shook in his hand as he stared daggers into the vampire. 

“Okay, okay. Good.” Benny placated him and backed up a little, “Because this won’t work if you’re not.” 

Dean let his blade drop a faction but still remained suspicious, “So you want to guide me out of Purgatory?” 

“Yeah’uh.” Nodded the vampire encouragingly. 

“Out of the goodness of your undead heart?” 

“Hmm, more or less.” Benny grinned at the human’s skepticism and began to walk around the clearing, avoiding the corpses of his fellow vampires that lay on the ground in pools of blood. “You see, the exit door is for human’s only... I show you where it is and you carry my soul to the other side.” 

Dean listened to the vampire’s words as he slowly pivoted around to follow Benny’s slow progress around the clearing. The hunter began to tense up again, hating the feeling of being circled. As soon as his face and posture changed Benny seemed to sense the hostility and stopped pacing. 

They both stared each other down for a few moments before Benny spoke again with a small smirk. 

“Suit yourself. Maybe you you’ve gone native, maybe you don’t want to leave this exotic food supply.” He baited Dean, clearly wanting a rise of some kind out of him- just one that wouldn’t drive him to cut off his head, “You’ve really built up a taste for it then? Huh. Must be like being a smoker in a cigarette factory.” 

“How do I know this isn’t a set up?” Growled Dean, interrupting Benny’s clever use of reverse psychology. 

“You don’t. But I’m you’re only option.” 

Silence fell on both of them once more as Dean attempting to list his other options and found that he was in low supply of them. 

“You give this deal to anybody else?” He ordered and Benny chuckled. 

“You see any other human’s in this plentiful land?” 

_No._ The pleasure of being the one and only meatsack in this petri dish was Dean’s and Dean’s alone. 

  


However, his thoughts wandered towards another being who had the wings to pull off an escape. 

“There’s an angel here.” Dean said matter-of-factly as his stare burned holes into Benny. 

The vampire tilted his head a little. The look he gave Dean was one of confusion and curiosity, as though he was trying to figure this strange human out. 

“Hm, I’ve heard rumors.” He remarked before asking Dean, “Have you seen it?” 

“No.” The hunter replied quickly, lowering his head. Dean tried and failed to keep the bitterness out of his words. 

As he looked down at the blood that pooled around one of the slain vampires on the ground below him he wondered if the angel’s blood had been spilled too. 

All he knew was that he didn’t want to be the one to spill it, but he wondered if his new-found appetite would let him have a say in the matter. 

“I know him.” Admitted Dean quietly, trying to chase away these unsettling thoughts. 

“Ah. I’m guessing he’s got something to do with how you ended up in Monsterland?” Benny asked, but predictably got no reply. He rubbed his neck in unease, “Listen, three’s a crowd chief, if you wanna find h-” 

_“NO.”_ Broke in Dean viciously, sending a chorus of echoes of that single word around the clearing. It was a knee-jerk reaction that Dean hadn’t expected but he understood it. After what he’d done here he couldn’t face the angel now for fear of what he would do. Besides, he had run from Dean. So why not let him keep running? 

It took the human a few moments to compose himself and return to his defensive stance. 

“No we can’t find him.” He said in a steady resolute voice, to which the vampire nodded slowly. 

“Alright.” Benny outstretched his hand, waiting for the man to shake it. “Well, we got a deal then?” 

Dean looked at the hand and thought about how easy it would be to cut it free from the vampire's arm and leave him here to bleed out with the corpses of his own kind to keep him company. 

But something stopped him- the possibility of escape. 

He needed to run from what he was becoming in this place, he needed to return to a place where he wouldn’t be swimming in so many monsters... Where he could at least pretend to be human. 

  


“Deal.” Answered Dean and walked forward, leaving the vampire's cold hand unshaken.

  



	5. With this true flesh that follows after him

* * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


It was an uneasy partnership that the human and the vampire shared. Neither one of them trusted the other and it made traversing through the barren forest a tense journey to say the least. Dean was wound-up tight like a coiled spring, he never let his guard down for a second and insisted that Benny walk ahead of him. 

The hunger was beginning to incessantly gnaw at Dean as they stalked through the trees. The hunter didn’t know if he could wait until a monster happened across their path to slice it up. Dean hadn't revealed to Benny that he couldn't consume vampires or any creature that could potentially turn a human. Maybe he felt like holding the threat over the vampire, after all Benny could easy turn around and kill Dean, so why couldn't he let the creature fear him in the same way?

However, Dean was unsure as to whether Benny had worked out the no-go areas in his new diet himself. After all, he'd left the corpses of two vampires and a werewolf behind uneaten. And the question still hung heavily in the air as to whether or not Benny disapproved of his method of sedating his appetite. Either way he couldn't care less about what the vampire thought of him, all he wanted to do was fill the growing pit in his stomach. 

  


“We should stop soon.” Benny said as he looked over his shoulder to Dean, interrupting the human's train of thought, “Once we get up this incline there’s a rock we can set up camp by.” 

Dean nodded roughly and the vampire turned away. But before the hunter could help it, he blurted out accusingly, “How the hell do you know so much about this place anyway?” 

There was silence between them for a moment, but neither of them stopped their steady pace up the gradual slope. After a few moments Benny chuckled, “I’ve been here for a while chief.” 

“Bullshit.” Dean muttered under his breath, not believing that time equated to knowledge in this twisted place. Benny heard his cynicism and laughed again. 

“Well you see I’ve never, ahem, _lost my head_ around these parts. You need intel and a sense of direction to get out of purgatory kid, and I’ve got both.” 

Dean began to drift over to the right side of the vampire. From head on it may have appeared as if the two were walking distantly side by side, but if viewed from either the right or the left the onlooker would have noticed that the human still stood a good few steps behind the vampire. 

Dean didn’t let his guard down that easily. 

“Huh.” The hunter scoffed disbelievingly, “No monsters ever told me anything worth hearing.” 

“Well it helps if you don’t eat them you see.” Smirked Benny, much to Dean’s annoyance. 

“Every single one of them wanted to kill me.” He snarled back. 

“So that’s what your new diet is then? Payback?” 

“No. _Survival_.” 

The vampire just laughed again and gave Dean a sideways glance, “And when you’re back on God’s green earth? What’ll be your excuse then?” 

Dean finally saw red and shoved Benny so hard into the nearest tree that dry bark cracked around his shoulders. His knife was at the monster’s throat in a second, not pressing down hard enough for the blade to bite into the skin but enough that Benny could feel its presence. 

“You’re not gunna kill me. Not if you want outta here” Said the vampire in a slow quiet voice, but his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, betraying his fear. 

“Don’t think I won’t.” Hissed Dean dangerously as he exerted more pressure on his neck with the sharp blade. “You saw those bodies right? The one’s you used like breadcrumbs to find me?” 

“Uh-huh.” Uttered Benny, trying and failing to edge away from the knife. He caught the dead look in the human’s eyes as his own eyes darted around, there was no mistaking the intent to kill in those cold green ones. 

Benny went still and listened to the chilling cadence of Dean’s voice. 

“You don’t want to end up like that, trust me.” The hunter assured him, “So enough of this armchair psychology crap, capeesh?” 

“Capeesh, chief, loud and clear.” Benny gasped, and within a second the knife against his throat was gone. He let out a breath and rubbed his neck with his hand uneasily. 

The vampire was grateful to find that Dean had already backed away from him, but his relief soon left him as he watched the human turn his head sharply to the side to glare into the trees, his body tensing up as if on high alert. 

“What is it?” Croaked Benny, stumbling forwards. But Dean quickly raised his blade once, stopping him in his tracks 

“ _Shhh._ ” Dean hissed and tilted his head to draw his attention to something apparently to the right of him. Benny’s eyes followed in that direction and surveyed the still overgrowth and trees surrounding them. He was about to ask what all this was about when the leaves of a partially dead shrub moved violently. 

Instantly Benny joined Dean on high alert, drawing his own handmade blade from beneath his coat and holding it out ready for attack. Without a word to each other they closed ranks and almost stood back to back with one another as they anticipated an attack. 

Neither one of them was particularly surprised when monster leapt forward in an attempt to drag Dean to the floor, both Benny and Dean stepped aside so that the woman tumbled past them and landed on the forest ground. However, she expertly sprung back onto her feet, kicking up a cloud of dust as she did so. 

The monster growled hungrily at Dean and bared her sharp jagged teeth. As soon as the hunter noticed her snake-like eyes he knew what she was. 

  


A vetala. 

  


As he turned to inform Benny, he heard movement from behind him and froze. Vetalas, he remembered, _they hunt in pairs_. 

Before he could even react another creature pounced on them seemingly out of nowhere. She twisted Dean’s wrist and brought him crashing to the ground whilst the other grinned at Benny and leapt forward. 

Dean struggled against the vetala as she attempted to snap at his neck. Her tight grip around his wrist kept him from moving his blade against her and Dean could hear the sounds of Benny struggling with the other creature beside him. 

In a surge of instinctual survival and perhaps if he was honest with himself, rabid hunger, Dean managed to flip the vetala over and pin her down as he buried his head into her neck. Before the creature could even react Dean sunk his own teeth into her skin as deeply as he could, the thought of meat and food clouding his scrambled thoughts. 

Warm blood rushed out around his mouth as he brought his teeth closer together, tearing through flesh as the vetala writhed and screamed beneath him. 

His eyes remained dead and unseeing as he finally tore his head away, tearing out a large strip of skin and muscle with it. 

Dean felt the stick warmth of blood smeared around his mouth and looked down to see the vetala choking and convulsing on the ground, her right hand clasped around her neck as blood ran like rivers through the gaps in her fingers. 

Those reptilian eyes darted up at him in disbelief as her shaking began to stop and life began to leave her body. Dean stared back at the dying vetala in a daze, the violent savagery of what he’d just done paralyzing him. 

Her head finally fell backwards and her body gave one last twitch before falling still, but the blood continued to leak out of the monster’s torn neck at a sluggish pace. 

Dean stood above her, frozen in time. That is, until something collided with his foot and broke his paralysis. 

The hunter looked down to see it had been Benny who’d kicked him as he struggled on the ground, embroiled in a similar fight to the one he’d just been in. The first vetala growled and snarled above him, practically foaming at the mouth. Dean remembered distantly something about these creatures being venomous and it quickly spurred him into action. 

Stepping forward with his blade in hand, Dean grabbed the vetala’s long hair before she could bite Benny, pulled her head back and quickly beheaded the creature. 

Her headless body fell onto Benny, who quickly pushed it away from him, whilst her head stayed suspended by her knotted hair in Dean’s hand. 

Looking up at the human, Benny expected to be relieved that he’d actually saved his life. However, the sight that greeted him was not one that filled him with ease. 

The fresh glistening red stains around his mouth contrasted heavily with the old streaks of dried mud and blood that coated the rest of his face, hair, and clothes. The head of the vetala that had attacked him stayed tethered to his hand, giving him the look of a medieval executioner. Thankfully, Dean loosened his grip on the creature’s and let it tumble to the ground where it landed close to the still body of the vetala that fought the human. 

Cautiously, Benny got to his feet. When he was vertical and had retrieved his blade he took a closer look at the second vetala and quickly wished he hadn’t. 

Dean had torn her throat out. 

He couldn’t help but look back at the human, who in turn was glaring at Benny with his glazed unfeeling eyes. 

  


It was almost as if he was daring him to say something, and quite honestly for one of the first times in his long life, Benny found himself speechless.

  



	6. Fleeing on foot and bloodying the plain

* * * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


Eager not to become another victim of the man, Benny decided to hold his tongue as he watched Dean crouch down next to the body of the first vetala that he’d killed. The human reached for her limp arm and grabbed her wrist in away that made Benny think he was taking her pulse, but when he held it out taught and raised his blade the vampire realized what he was about to do.

He wasn’t squeamish by any means, but Benny found himself turning away from the hunter as he went to work hacking off the monster’s right arm. Thankfully it only took him three loud sanguinary hits until he heard the bone snap and one dull thump of the blade as it cut through the arm in its entirety. 

Swallowing hard to try and abate the churning of his hollow stomach, Benny turned around to face the human who was getting to his feet.

When Dean stood up with the severed limb clutched in his hand Benny dared to give him a small look of impatience that conveyed his need to continue their journey to the portal that would lead them out of purgatory. 

Thankfully Dean nodded at him, seeming to understand the hurry they should be in. The hunter motioned with his dripping red blade for Benny to walk forwards into the darkening forest and the vampire obeyed. 

He couldn’t help casting a quick look back at the human every once in a while as they made their way through the trees. Perhaps the human would take one step further into savagery and forgo cooking the meat this time. 

Benny feared that he would soon see chunks of flesh missing from the vetala’s arm. 

But he didn’t, even though Dean held the limb against his shoulder in a way that reminded the vampire of a soldier standing to attention with their rifle. It was a grim parody, but the man certainly acted like a soldier- at the very least, a traumatized and psychotic one. One that had been through bloody hellish battles and seen death a million times over in a million different ways. 

He’d seen this place reduce everything down to animal instinct, perhaps humans were not immune either.

  


“Losing light.” Remarked Benny, putting an end to the uneasy silence. He didn’t expect a reply, but he ended up getting one.

“How far off is this rock?” Asked Dean, referring to the place Benny had mentioned they could set up camp before they got attacked by the vetalas. 

“Not far.” The vampire cast Dean a backwards glance and couldn’t help but eye the amputated limb he carried. He turned back around and mentioned, “You can build a fire there.”

The human didn’t reply to that, it seemed as though they both had reached a mutual but unspoken agreement not to mention Dean’s method of eating. Benny figured as long as he wasn’t eating him or any other monster that could turn him then he’d be human enough to make it through the portal. 

  


And that’s all he needed.

  


After taking what would be described as the complete opposite to a leisurely stroll, the vampire and the human eventually found themselves arriving at the rock Benny had described earlier.

The night had set in deep and the vampire welcomed it, feeling more accustomed and comfortable in the darkness, a trait that he shared with the rest of his kin. The human however seemed distrustful of the night. Benny could see through the cracks in his nightmarish façade to the vulnerability that lay beneath. 

As though feeling the vampire scrutinizing him, Dean threw the vetala’s hand that he’d been carrying down to the ground and took off. Benny raised an eyebrow and was about the shout after him when he spotted him gathering up the dry rotting wood that surrounded them. He looked down at the dismembered limb at his feet and figured the hunter was gathering firewood.

Sure enough, Dean arrived back and started to expertly build a fire with what he’d amassed. Benny watched as he recreated a similar fire to the ones he and Donte had found scattered across purgatory.

The vampire’s eyelids started to droop as he laid back against the large moss-covered rock and felt the comforting heat of fire near to him. He knew the scene that he’d see if he opened his eyes would be anything but comforting, especially as the smell of cooking flesh reached his nostrils, so he chose to keep them shut.

 

  


* * * * * *

 

  


A vicious kick to the stomach wrenched Benny out of his sleep when the light returned. He groaned loudly and opened his eyes to some unknown monster’s face inches from his own wearing a cruel grin.

“Where is he?” Snarled the man, bearing his teeth. Benny’s eyes darted towards them and spotted no fangs or sharpened edges, ruling out some of the usual suspects he tangled with.

“I didn’t order a wake-up call.” Wheezed Benny as he clutched his midsection. The monster didn’t laugh, instead he grabbed the vampire’s collar and heaved him up to his feet so he could see the other two creatures who stood behind him. Benny glanced over at them and noticed they were all wearing suits, which seemed out of place in purgatory where you were usually saddled with the clothes you'd died in.

“These your friends? Pack or nest?” He asked, trying to guess what they were.

“Please.” Scoffed the man who held onto the scruff of his neck, “Don’t lump us with you filthy bottom feeding animals.”

“Where’s the human?” One of the suited monsters asked more specifically, her hands clenching into fists.

“No idea darlin’.” Said Benny truthfully, “You’re asking the wrong guy.”

“Oh I think we’re asking the right one. Now answer us.”

The vampire let out a chuckle as he looked around the vicinity, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dean, but found nothing. “Now how can I do that when I have the exact same question?”

The other shorter man who stood next to the female monster walked forward. Benny tried to alter his stance as best as he could, expecting another hit. However, the creature stopped a couple of feet in front of him and their leader before looking down. When Benny did the same he realized he was staring at the long burnt-out firepit that Dean had built to cook his meal. 

The monster kicked away the charred bones of the vetala’s cooked arm as though it were nothing. Instead he picked up a handful of ash from the incinerated branches and let it run through his fingers.

“It’s cold.” He said as he looked at his companions, “He must have left when night fell.”

“He can’t have gotten far.” Growled the guy who still had hold of Benny. 

The vampire darted his eyes to the left and right, trying to find a way out of this, when he spotted movement from behind a nearby tree. The dirty face of the human appeared for a moment before ducking out of sight again. Benny kept searching until he spotted Dean again. Only this time the man was stalking forward through the overgrowth silently, crouched low. 

Benny knew he had to distract the three unknown monsters to make sure Dean had a chance at evening the odds.

“What do you want with the human anyway? From what I’ve heard anyone who tries to make a meal outta him becomes one themselves.”

“Don’t worry vampire, we know Dean Winchester well. And we know his pet angel even better.”

“Huh.” Contemplated Benny. How could Dean possibly know these cocky jackasses? He had to admit he was intrigued by the trivia but he noticed that the human was drawing closer to the two monsters, and he needed to keep the attention of the one who was holding him so he wouldn’t notice Dean’s approach. 

“Angels and humans in purgatory. They’ll just let anyone in here now won’t they?” He said as Dean moved forward, his blade ready to strike. 

Benny took his chance and kicked the man in front of him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards, just as Dean ran up to the female monster furthest away from the group.

He quickly sliced through her neck as she surged towards Benny and her two companions, not noticing his approach. As her head tumbled to the ground Benny gazed at the black ooze that flowed from her body instead of blood.

“Leviathans?” Said Benny in amazement as the two remaining creatures threw their heads back to reveal their face splitting jaws. They snapped their spiked teeth together rapidly as they staggered towards Benny and Dean respectively, gnashing and baring their large forked tongues.

The vampire’s eyes went wide at the sight of their true faces and took a step back. As the ferocious monster gained on him Benny quickly reached into his coat pocket for his weapon, withdrawing it quickly by its long wooden handle.

Just as the chomper was getting a little too close for comfort Benny raised the blade and hacked at its neck. The leviathan let out a howl of pain as black fluid leaked from the large wound and it sunk to its knees. A sharpened stone from his weapon was embedded in the monster’s throat, Benny could see the edge of it poking out through the black sludge. 

He raised the blade up to examine it and spotted the missing stone, he hadn’t been able to fine a large enough rock to fashion a curved blade like the one Dean wielded. No, Benny had gone for a Macuahuitl-style blade- which was essentially a club embedded with sharpened stones. It did the job, but it rarely did it cleanly.

“Ah, you broke it.” Benny sighed and looked down at the gasping monster.

The leviathan smiled as its black blood seeped from the corner of its mouth. Not wanting to see the creature's smug face anymore, Benny once again hacked at the leviathan’s wound and sliced through his spinal cord. It took him another hit to separate its head from its shoulders but finally the monster fell to the ground next to the remains of the vetala’s severed arm.

  


The vampire exhaled loudly as he looked down at the body but soon raised his head, wondering why it was so quiet. His eyes quickly landed on the human, who was standing where the other male leviathan had stood, only now the monster was in two pieces- much like his two friends.

Dean was also staring down at the body of his leviathan, but not in the curious way Benny had. The look on his face was of pure anger and hatred which seemed to radiate off him in pulsing waves.

“They’re the reason I’m here.” He mumbled slowly, as though he was trying to make sense of it in his head.

Benny began to approach the hunter tentatively and asked, “What’s that chief?”

Dean looked at the vampire but didn’t raise his head, his green eyes were barely visible beneath his heavy brow. 

“They’re the reason I’m _here!_ ” The man hissed threw his clenched jaw with such venom that Benny stopped in his tracks.

“The leviathans brought you to purgatory?” He was a little taken back. Granted, he hadn’t asked how Dean had ended up here. Benny treated the human like an exposed nerve, he didn’t want to aggravate it further by poking at it. But when opportunities arose to mine some information he took it.

Dean crouched down next to the slain leviathan, echoing the creature's inspection of the dead fire. The hunter’s left hand rested in the pool of ink-like blood surrounding the monster’s body.

“I-I killed their leader.” He stuttered as he clenched his eyes closed, reliving the memory of a black explosion.

Benny let out a low whistle, “No wonder they were looking for you. Gotta admit though, I haven’t seen any leviathans for a long long time. Thought maybe they’d eaten themselves to death, which is a hellova of an achievement here.”

“They escaped.” Dean told him in a low voice, “The angel- it was him.”

“It was him that what?”

The human didn’t answer the question. He only raised his black coated hand in a daze before blinking hard. Dean seemed to be returning through the haze of memories and wiped his hand across the dried mud that coated his jacket as though he was ridding himself of them.

“I heard them.” He said as he got to his feet again, “They said they knew us both, but the angel better.”

Benny looked at the hunter carefully, trying to judge whether or not this was going to turn into a pitch to find this angel. He wasn’t sure if it would, but he wanted to veto that idea before it formed in Dean’s head. 

“Well he did abandon you in this jungle didn’t he?” Said Benny, capitalizing on Dean’s doubt and fleeting memory. “Sounds to me like maybe they were working with the angel.”

It wasn’t a lie at all, it was completely feasible that an angel upon finding themselves in a land inhabited by monsters would have to make sacrifices to survive. Just like Dean had. Just like Benny himself had. Alliances were something you had to make in a lonely battleground like this.

But Dean looked torn. He shook his head slowly and looked at Benny. “No. No, he wouldn’t. Not again.”

“You sure?” The vampire asked, catching the flicker of uncertainty in Dean’s face.

Dean considered the theory and felt the underlining currents of mistrust in his stomach. The angel had crossed him before, he was sure of it. And stranding them both in purgatory had been the outcome of attempting to right his wrongs. 

His own furious voice rang in his ears, _“Clean up your mess!”_. But all they had done was land themselves into an even bigger mess. One that was royally screwing with Dean’s already unscrewed psyche.

He could feel purgatory loosening the last few bolts that kept his mind intact, with every bite into another monster he took one fell to the ground with a metallic clang.

But he couldn’t stop. And right now he wanted nothing more than to carve up the remains of the leviathans and consume them. The black ooze that flowed from their split necks didn’t even repulse him in the slightest.

“I think I know why they were here.” Benny said suddenly, distracting Dean from his intrusive thoughts.

He looked over at the vampire to see him staring off into the distance. They both caught a glimpse of a dead leaf flying gracefully through a soft breeze in the close distance. 

The sight unnerved him. There was no wind here.

“We’re close.” The vampire informed him.

“To what?” Dean asked quietly, his eyes still following the leaf until it finally slid out of view.

A small relieved smile appeared on Benny’s exhausted face. 

  


“To the exit.”

  



	7. When the whirlwind breathes

* * * * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


The change in atmosphere got stronger as they followed the strange breeze. Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was exactly, but it felt as though he was caught between two worlds. The wind ran through him but didn’t have the power to move his clothes or hair. The hunter figured this was because they were stiffened with dried dirt and blood. Still, the unnatural gust unnerved him.

“When we get close,” Benny said gruffly as they pushed their way through the overgrowth, “There’s a spell we need to cast.”

Dean withdrew his blade to help hack at the dead bushes so that they had a clearer path. Between slashes he asked, “To open the portal?”

“No.” The vampire replied and paused for a few moments to let Dean finish hacking at the spindly branches.

When the path was cleared he finally revealed, “The spell is for you to absorb my soul.”

Dean said nothing, he didn’t even falter. Benny tried to read the back of his head, perturbed by his silence.

“We had a deal, remember?” He prompted the human, fearing he was going to back out.

“Yeah.” Muttered Dean quietly before clearing his throat, “Yeah I remember.”

“So you’ll stick to it?” 

He let the question hang as the breeze rose all around them, stronger than before. This time it moved the few hair’s on Dean’s head that weren’t caked in mud, filling him with a fleeting feeling of hope. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in. 

The air was lighter than purgatory’s dense dusty atmosphere. It felt like breathing through an oxygen mask after your lungs had been robbed of air. Dean didn’t even know that he had been suffocating until he took that breath.

“Let’s just get to the portal.” The hunter replied finally, leaving the answer open to Benny’s interpretation.

That was all they said to each other as they marched forward, each one of them anxious at the thought of escape. Benny wondered if the human would in fact hold up his end of the bargain, Dean worried whether the portal would recognize him as a human in the wake of his newly developed eating habits. Doubt and distrust circled the two of them like hungry buzzards, making them cast quick nervous glances at each other as they drew closer and closer to their final stop.

The wind grew stronger and stronger, occasionally blowing dust and shrivelled leaves into their faces. The trees were beginning to thin out and Dean could feel an almost static-like energy coming from close by. His pace began to quicken as he spotted a strange blue light seemingly hovering above ground. 

It shimmered like a sapphire- so out of place in this dead feral wasteland.

  


This was it. They’d found the way out.

  


Dean’s feet were about to break out into a run when Benny grabbed his arm. The human stopped and glared at the hand holding onto him. Benny let go quickly when Dean stared at him like a dog about to bite.

“Hold on there friend.” The vampire said softly, “Don’t go running into the light without my soul.”

Dean’s blade shook slightly in his hand, itching to it sink into the monster’s neck, but he didn’t strike. Instead the hunter weighed up his options. He could kill the vampire right now, no one would be any the wiser. But Benny seemed to sense that Dean might take that road and had a tight grip on his damaged weapon should the human move against him. 

It would be no mean feat to kill Benny, he’d seen up close what the vampire could do. He’d saved Dean from his own kin, proving he was ruthless and unremorseful. The vampire had survived here for much longer than him without turning into a mindless savage.

How many other monsters here could say that?

Could _Dean?_

“What am I supposed to do?” He asked. The question echoed in Dean’s head, he heard a desperate cry that belonged to him and another voice choked by tears. They were voices that were edged with pain, and they contrasted heavily with Dean’s current desolate tone.

Benny stared at him curiously, wondering what exactly he was asking for, guidance or direction? 

“You need to cut your arm.” Said the vampire, choosing direction.

Dean blinked, “Huh?

“Cut your arm. Then I'll cut mine.” Benny motioned to where Dean should do it with his own makeshift blade.

The human looked at him for a moment before dreamily reaching into his jacket and withdrawing the hunting blade that had travelled with him to this place. Dean stared at the silver knife in wonder, he’d half-forgotten he’d had it. The knife had been the only loyal thing that had travelled with him from above and he’d all but replaced it with the dropped homemade weapon of a vampire he’d beheaded. 

It seemed right to be returning to it now.

“Alright.” Benny clapped his hands together as Dean rolled up his sleeve. Dried dirt fell off his jacket as he pushed it up his arm, revealing his pale skin underneath. The human carefully and slowly dragged the blade across his forearm, creating a neat deep cut that drew a steady stream of blood.

The sight overwhelmed Benny for a moment, so much so that his fangs descended without warning. The vampire closed his eyes and focused on breathing. This was it. He had been in purgatory for decades, planning and waiting for this. They were so close to the trap door, giving into his thirst would destroy everything…

Benny opened his eyes as his fangs thankfully retreated back into his gums. The human stood in front of him, the sharp hunting blade outstretched, ready for either Benny to take or for Dean to run him through with. 

Apprehensively Benny reached out for the knife and much to his relief, Dean turned it over in his hand and loosened his grip so that the vampire could take it from him. 

“Heh, I can’t believe we made it.” Laughed the vampire shakily as he tried to ignore the small stripe of human blood that clung to the edge of the blade whilst he pulled up his sleeve.

Dean pried his eyes away from the blue light in the near distance and gave Benny a skeptical look, “We haven’t made it anywhere yet.”

“Speak for yourself, I never thought I’d even see the portal. And after well, all the things you’ve done here…” Benny paused and readied the knife over his skin, “I’m just glad the damn things reacting to your presence.”

“Like I said.” Dean’s low voice murmured, “We ain’t out yet.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Said the vampire with a smirk and proceeded to draw the knife across his arm in a similar fashion to Dean. However, the blood raised to the surface much slower than the human’s had. He was a walking talking corpse after all. It was only his sluggish poisoned blood that kept him animated.

“Now what?” Asked Dean as his eyes darted between their two matching cuts. Bright blood dribbled down his arm whilst a darker stream ran slowly down Benny’s. Blood brothers, his mind whispered before he banished the thought.

Benny reached out with his arm that bore the cut. Dean echoed the movement and as soon as he did the vampire grabbed hold of his forearm, just below his elbow.

“Listen very carefully.” Benny stared the man down, placing deep emphasis on his words as he tightened his grip on Dean’s arm, “When we get topside, you need to go to Clayton, Louisiana. Find the old Lafitte plot, walk four steps from the wooden windmill and dig.”

“What’s there, buried treasure?” Jeered Dean as he wondered if he should start struggling against the vampire’s grip. 

“Close.” Grinned Benny, “All you have to do is cut your arm again and repeat this; _Anima corpori fuerit corpus totem resurgent._ Then your debt is clear.”

“Anima corpori…” 

“-fuerit corpus totem resurgent.” The vampire finished for him and translated the Latin into English, “The soul has been risen into the body.”

It was deathly silent all around them apart from the sound of a distant gale that seemed to emanate down from the portal atop the rocky hill. Dean knew he was about to go this part of the journey alone and felt strangely empty at the thought. When he had dared to dream of escaping during his first endless nights trapped inside this battleground he’d always imagined another person guiding him out, or at least prayed to one. But his prayers were left unanswered and his thoughts had turned more and more rabid until finally he became purgatory's resident human monster.

“You ready?” Asked the vampire from what felt like a million miles away. 

Dean turned his head slowly and nodded once, his head dropped and bobbed back up like a drunk.

Benny nodded back with considerably more control, “Grab my arm.” 

The human did exactly that, he held on to Benny’s forearm so tightly he was almost cutting off his circulation.

“Now repeat after me,” Said Benny steadily, “ _Coniuncti sumus, unum sumus._ And I’ll see you on the other side.”

Both men stood up straighter and held their arms taut, readying themselves for the effects of the ritual.

Dean’s Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed and cleared his throat.

“ _Coniuncti sumus,_ ” The human began loudly, his voice echoing through the dead trees, “ _Unum sumus!_ ”

Instantaneously, Benny seized up as though he had been electrocuted and began to shake. Dean watched in shock as his body dissolved into a mixture of black wisps of smoke surrounded by a red glow. The vampires hand went a bright searing white that felt like it was branding Dean’s skin. The agony only continued as Benny’s smoky red soul turned to angry sparks that sucked themselves straight into Dean’s arm. 

The human grunted in pain and almost doubled over. He clutched onto his arm with his left hand and felt the burning begin to ebb away. Unscrewing his eyes, he looked down to see the bubbling skin underneath his fingers that continued to glow inside the arm itself, illuminating his veins.

The sight made him feel even more tainted. Was this the only thing the last drops of his humanity was good for? Towing another monster back to life?

His arm burned angrily as though Benny was becoming impatient and Dean promptly rolled down his sleeve, blocking the sight of his glowing arm from view. He still felt the vampire’s soul moving beneath his skin but as he strode forwards towards the portal it began to nag him less and less.

Soon he was out of the trees and climbing up the steep rocky hillside up towards the peak where the portal lay, crackling with energy. 

The wind was growing to hurricane-like levels as he drew closer, his feet occasionally stumbled on the rocks due to it’s intensity. Dean held his hand up to shield his face from the gale. He felt the air thinning and crackling around him as he made his final steps towards the blue rip in the fabric of purgatory.

But the hunter suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that he was being tailed. He turned his head around quickly and held his blade out, anticipating an attack. 

His green eyes darted around the area and found nothing, but he kept his blade grasped tightly in his shaking hand.

Dean glanced backwards at the portal behind him and figured it was time to dash towards the finish line before anything further could happen to him. Like an ambush, or the sickening doubt that was beginning to worm its way into his head taking over him.

He turned and scrambled up the large rock and into the sapphire portal that seemed to be acting like a vacuum. Here he was, Dean Winchester, voluntarily entering what felt like a dying star collapsing in on itself.

The high pitched tone that had followed him up the hill was now deafening. Any moment now he was about to fall through reality and hopefully back to a world that he prayed he still belonged to.

  


Dean took one last look out at the vast graveyard of purgatory and was alarmed when he spotted a figure standing to the left of the clearing looking directly at him.

The wind and light surrounding the hunter make it hard to see, but as Dean squinted at the person, he could just make out a tattered looking coat blowing behind him.

  


“ _Castiel?_ ” He mouthed in confusion as the portal began to close all around him and yank him backwards into nothingness.

  



	8. To a place I come where nothing shines

* * * * * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


The darkness gave way to a blinding light that spat Dean out onto muddy wet ground. His legs immediately scrambled upwards for purchase and he got to his feet with all the grace of a baby deer. The hunter’s eyes finally became acclimatized to the dark, and what he saw almost made his heart stop.

He was stranded in another forest. 

  


_It didn’t work._ His mind hissed at him, _You weren’t human enough to leave._

  


However, before he could dissolve into hopelessness, he started to notice how different these woods were to purgatory. For one, these trees had luscious green leaves and seemed full of life, unlike the skeletal withered ones that he’d grown used to. Secondly, the night didn’t seem so black and desolate. Instead he could spot small white stars glinting above him, making him feel less trapped than purgatories slate blank sky. He also spotted small droplets of water resting on the surface of a shrub near him.

 _Rain._ He hadn’t seen rain in what felt like centuries.

Just as he reached out to touch a branch to marvel at the sight, a distant voice interrupted the quiet calm surrounding him.

Dean immediately reverted back to attack mode. In one swift motion he was stealthily stalking through the trees towards the voice that had suddenly became two. Within seconds he spotted a tall white tent glowing an inviting orange. As he ran past it he heard the panicked voices coming from inside. Dean didn’t trust them, it could be a ruse, a trap to get him inside and drag him back through the portal to that dead place that crawled with monsters. Monsters like him.

Instead he headed for cover behind a tree on the edge of the campsite and waited. His narrowed eyes glared at the entrance, daring whatever was inside to come out. His knuckles started to go white with the tightness of his grip on his makeshift blade as the canvas material began to move and a hand pealed it back.

  


A boy emerged, couldn’t have been much more than 17. He looked bewildered and scared as he held his flashlight out like a shield.

“Hello?” He asked gruffly, and Dean could tell he was dreading a reply. The hunter knew these types of clueless teenagers, they were the ones who easily found themselves the victim of a hungry creature watching them from the shadows. He’d saved them before, he didn’t know if he could save them now.

For all Dean knew, the kid might not even be human.

The boy’s eyes suddenly went wide with relief as he told himself quietly, “It was a deer.”

Dean spotted the campfire down by his feet as he stalked towards the boy, noticing how much neater and tidy it was compared to the ones he’d had to build to cook the flesh of the monsters he’d skinned.

The kid looked back into the tent, talking to the owner of the second voice, “I don’t know it was like a- like a deer or something...”

The hunter had been so focused on the stranger that he forgot to look where he was walking. One loud snapping of a branch beneath his feet was enough to betray his position.

“WOAH!” The boy spun around and pointed the flashlight at Dean with a look of complete horror, the unnatural blueish light stung the hunter’s eyes- but he didn’t blink.

“Where am I?” Asked Dean, which only made the kid's mouth open even wider.

“W-what?” He replied, his gaze falling towards Dean’s blade.

Before Dean could speak again the canvas of the tent moved and caught him off guard. Without thinking he drew his gun, which had no ammo and would be of no help to him at all. He’d used all his bullets on those gorilla wolves that had so kindly welcomed him to purgatory when the angel had flown away.

But these humans, if that’s what they were, didn’t know that. 

A girl suddenly emerged from the tent and the barrel of Dean’s gun followed her.

“W- hey hey!” Said the other kid protectively, trying to draw Dean’s attention away from her as she stood behind him and clutched onto his arm. They both were breathing heavily in fear, the boy put out his free hand to try and calm him down. It was a gesture that Benny had been prone to as well and his arm stung viciously at the thought.

“Where’s the road?” Growled Dean, growing impatient.

The couple still looked terrified and nervous, but the boy seemed to regain his wits.

“Twelve miles, that way.” He pointed to the left, signalling towards a dark path through the trees. Dean quickly looked over in that direction before returning his threatening stare back to the two teenagers.

The hunter adjusted his fingers on the gun, making them shuffle in fear. The pistol felt strangely foreign to him, the blade in his other hand felt way more at home in his grip. He thought about his next move carefully as his arm began to ripple again. The vampire’s soul was getting restless, but Dean chose to ignore it. Instead he surveyed the area quickly and spotted a large camping backpack laying on the floor. 

  


Supplies, that’s what he needed. Supplies and a road.

  


Keeping the empty gun trained on the two teenagers, he slowly bent down to retrieve the backpack. As soon as he got a hold of one of the straps, he took off into the trees before either of them could stop him.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


He sprinted through the forest like a man possessed. Or like a man who had hell hounds on his tail. 

Dean Winchester was well versed in either one of those situations, and he didn’t care about the means of getting out of this new wilderness- he just wanted to get out.

  


The night was starting to fade and so was he. Try as he might to carry on, his legs didn’t seem to want to run anymore. But Dean kept pushing them on until eventually he had to come to a grinding halt, otherwise he would have fallen into a small stream that appeared out of nowhere.

Dean’s legs screamed in agony as he looked down at the water below him. In the dawn’s growing light he could just about make out his reflection in the slowly moving stream. However, the sight of himself made him recoil and stagger backwards. 

His abused legs promptly gave out under him and Dean landed hard on his backside, the stolen bag keeping him from being spread out on his back.

The hunter pulled the bag from his shoulders in annoyance, trying to rid himself of the image of that feral looking thing in the water. He grabbed the zipper like it was foreign to him and tugged it sharply to reveal what was inside the backpack.

Clean fabric poked out the top and Dean pulled it out to reveal a flannel shirt that almost made him sigh in relief, he’d thankfully grabbed the bag that belonged to the boy. Desperate to know what else lay inside, Dean picked up the bag and emptied its contents out onto the floor.

Two white t-shirts and a pair of jeans fell out along with some socks and underwear. Toothpaste, a water bottle, a breakfast bar, trail mix, and a lighter also landed on the floor, but one thing caught Dean’s attention above all the others.

A phone.

 _“Sammy.”_ He whispered, freezing before immediately snatching the cell phone off the ground and turning it on. The screen greeted him with the time and date. 

  


5:07  
Sunday, September 30

  


His hands stilled as he glared at the date, wondering how long he’d been gone. Had it been September when he’d landed in purgatory? What year was it? Did time in purgatory work slower or faster than earths?

Questions hummed around his head like angry wasps. He figured he could bat them away if he could only speak to Sam and ground himself back in reality.

He feverishly typed in the first number of Sam’s that came to mind and hurriedly lifted the phone to his dirt-covered ear. 

  


It didn’t even ring.

  


Dean pulled away and stared at the screen expectantly but instead he spotted two small words in the corner of the screen: _no service_.

“Damn it!” Yelled Dean angrily, throwing the phone to the ground and burying his head in his hands. 

Was he really stupid enough to think it would be that easy? That he could call his brother up after god knows how long and Sam would just jump into the Impala and come racing to find him? He didn’t even know where he was for fucks sake.

“Road.” He croaked into his hands, a sense of strange calm washing over him. Dean let his hands slide away from his face and grabbed at the clothes laying amongst the scattered supplied he’d stolen.

“Find the road.” He repeated to himself as he dragged one of the t-shirts towards the stream.

Looking straight ahead to avoid catching sight of himself in the water again, Dean dipped the t-shirt into the cool stream until it was completely soaked- then raised it to his face.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the damp t-shirt across his face like it was a washcloth. When he pulled it away the once white top was filthy with dirt and blood. Dean felt like he’d peeled away a layer of skin and couldn’t help but feel vulnerable without his mask of grime. But at the same time he knew he had to build a different camouflage to exist in this world.

Dean dipped the t-shirt back in the water and went to work ridding himself of the remnants of purgatory. 

  


His appearance after all could be easily fixed, but the gnawing hunger that was starting to build in his stomach was another story. He glanced back at the trail mix and cereal bar still discarded on the ground, but the thought of tasting the dry meatless food made him feel sick. 

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


Dean hiked through the woods feeling like a new man. Gone was the build up of dirt and dried blood that coated his hair, face and clothing. He’d washed away his old skin and even shed his battle clothes in favor of the fresh clothing from the stolen bag. However, the jeans and shirt were a tight uncomfortable fit and despite their better appearance, Dean found himself longing for his old amor.

Instead of his blade, he held the cell phone tightly in his hand. The hunter checked it often to see if he had any bars, but to no avail. 

Before too long, Dean began to notice the thinning of the trees and spotted a dirt road close by.

He was right on the edge of it now. Civilization.

  


As he neared the road he spotted a vehicle in the distance, heading towards him.

Thinking that this was his chance, he walked into the center of the narrow road and waved his arms to flag it down.

The truck seemed to spot him on approach and thankfully began to slow. As the beat-up vehicle pulled over Dean surveyed it quickly, taking in its rusted body as he walked over to the driver’s window.

A grizzled looking man, probably in his early sixties, was looking him up and down from inside his truck before he finally asked, “You lost boy?”

Dean felt a little unsettled by the man but figured he could be the only driver around for miles. The hunter walked closer to the open window but looked dead ahead at the open road, avoiding looking at the old guy.

“I need a ride.” He said in a low voice.

“Going far?” Replied the man and Dean blinked, finding himself stupidly taken back by the question. Where was he going? For so long his focus had been on escaping purgatory and returning to earth that he'd never really given much thought about what he’d do if he achieved that impossible feat.

But Benny had given him a plan to follow, and his skin on his arm prickled and writhed under his shirt as a reminder. 

Dean placed a hand over the burning arm and answered, “Louisiana.”

The old man let out a harsh laugh that made Dean turn his head back to him in alarm. The guy grinned, showing his cigarette stained teeth, “ _Louisiana!?_ Hah, you sure are going far.”

Dean studied the man closer, taking in his unkempt appearance and the filthy state of both the outside and inside of his truck. As the hunter cast his eye across the dashboard he spotted a newspaper titled _Bangor Daily News._

“Maine?” Dean asked in confusion. Had the portal really quite literally spat him out in Stephen King’s neck of the woods?

“Boy, you’re already in Maine.” Said the old man, mistaking Dean’s realization for a destination request. 

He squinted at Dean and lent a little further out of the window. “Are you alright? You seem a little-” The guy paused to once again look Dean up and down in a way that was making him increasingly uneasy, but before Dean could respond the man shook his head, “Huh, never mind. Look do you want a ride or not? I can take you into town... and that’s about it.”

The hunter considered the offer. He could take the ride, end up in some backwards town and look for a way to Louisiana from there. That was, if this shady guy kept his word. But Dean found that he couldn’t shake his mistrust of any living creature, human or otherwise. And if anything it was increasing tenfold.

His hand slid around to his waistband as his eyes stayed locked on the man in the truck.

“Get outta the car.” Ordered Dean quietly.

“What?” The guy stared back at him in confusion. 

  


In one calm fluid motion Dean once again pulled a gun on a human. He aimed the empty pistol straight at the man’s shocked face, holding it half an inch a way from his sweaty forehead.

  


“I said... _Get out of the car._ ”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not canon. But I am canon adjacent. 
> 
> I promise Sam will finally be making his not-so triumphant appearance in the next chapter. Stay tuned :)


	9. Time passes on and we perceive it not

* * * * * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


Dean drove for 10 hours straight before he pulled over in a panic, convinced he could hear sirens after him. The guy that he had grand theft autoed was now over a hundred miles behind him and he doubted that he was the type of man to rat him out to the police. Just judging by his appearance Dean was willing to bet that he wasn’t exactly a pillar of the community, chances are if he’d gone to the cops they would have laughed him right out of the station. 

  


_‘Oh sure some haunted looking guy came looming outta the wilderness, pulled a gun on you, and stole your rust bucket of a truck. Sounds legit.’_

  


The police would brush it off as an insurance scam, they sure as hell weren’t going to chase Dean down through about 5 different states to Virginia. But the hunter still pulled over to regain some control over his racing mind, his leg was also beginning to shake on the gas pedal and his eyes were sliding in and out of focus.

He brought the old truck to a shuddering halt and let out a long breath to steady himself. Dean hadn’t drove a vehicle in such a long time and although parts came back to him, it hadn’t been an easy ride at all. He had lost the fluidity and instinct he felt when he drove the Impala. He hoped that once he got back in his baby he would be fixed, and he hoped that Sam had been treating her right. After all, the last time he’d seen his car, Dean had handed the keys over to a demon. 

He needed to return to some normality, but it was becoming less and less likely.

The hunter sighed and turned his head to the empty seat. The stolen backpack, alongside his blade and empty gun, sat there in place of his brother. 

Now was as good a time as any to try another of Sam’s numbers.

He searched through the bag to find the phone again. His forearm burned all the while as the vampire’s soul made its presence known, but Dean ignored it easily. What was another gnawing ache? Benny’s trapped soul felt like nothing but a flea bite in comparison to the empty pit in his stomach. 

He came across the trail mix and the cereal bar again whilst looking for the phone. Dean looked at them dubiously. It was strange how something so normal, something so neatly packaged and produced, could look so unappetizing to him. But the hunger was now bone deep, and Dean would eat anything to stop the hollow pain. So he tore open the trail mix and tried not to inhale the smell as he held the bag up to his face and tipped some into his mouth.

The hunter felt like he had just taken a mouthful of small stones. The strange dry texture made him gag but he bit down on the mix to chew the disgusting brittle food. With his eyes screwed shut he swallowed hard. The food went down his throat excruciatingly slowly and Dean already felt his stomach churning in response. 

Within seconds Dean wrenched open the door and vomited violently onto the road. 

He sat for a while with his eyes shut, hanging midway out of the old truck he’d taken at gunpoint, letting the breeze calm him down. 

After he’d spat the remainder of the trail mix out, Dean decided to pull himself back inside the vehicle and do what he should have done in the first place. _Call Sam._

This time he found the phone easily and thankfully he had a signal out here. With a shaking hand, he dialled one of Sam’s numbers and prayed for a response.

  


No answer came.

  


Annoyance began to build but Dean just took another deep breath and tried a different number.

Once again, out of service.

Now anger was taking annoyance’s place. Dean jabbed at the numbers on the screen to type in another of Sam’s known digits.

 _“The number you have dialled is not in service.”_ Came the robotic female voice after 10 shrill rings that sounded like jackhammers in Dean’s head. 

He was running out of numbers. Dean racked his brain for a fourth one, typing and retyping the digits before it looked vaguely correct to him.

  


The hunter pressed call, held the phone up to his ear and prayed.

  


Come on. This time. This time it has to get through to him. It just has to.

2 rings.

 _Come on._ COME ON.

5 rings.

_Sammy please._

8 rings.

9-

“Hello?” Came a voice from the other end and Dean almost dropped the phone in alarm.

“ _Hello?_ ” Repeated the voice. 

It was Sam. Dean could tell by the suspicious edge in the second hello.

“Sammy.” Rasped Dean. The word came out wrong in his dry mouth, it even sounded foreign to his own ears.

“Who is this?” Asked his brother. Dean heard movement from the other side of the line and a door close, it sounded as though Sam was shutting someone out.

Dean cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak but found he couldn’t. He had a million and one things he needed to say to Sam and they all fought for dominance in his head. But in the meantime, Sam had obviously given up on the mystery caller because when Dean found himself ready to speak, the dial tone cut him off.

Without skipping a beat Dean re-dialled the number. And this time Sam answered after two short rings.

“What do you want?” He demanded in a hushed tone, as though he was trying to keep his voice down.

“Sammy.” Said Dean, almost begging, “Sammy it’s _me_.”

“Listen, I don’t care who the fuck this is. This isn’t funny.”

“Sam-”

“You use my brother’s voice again I swear to God I’ll tear your throat out.” Hissed Sam with so much bile, Dean didn’t even wait for the line to go dead before he dropped the phone into his lap.

Sam thought he was a monster. He had pegged him for dead and thought he was a monster screwing with him.

Dean stared off into the dark night, at a loss of what to do. The light from the phone screen illuminated his face in an otherworldly blue tone, making him appear more alien than he felt.  
He was in Virginia, he knew that much. Three states away from Louisiana. Three states away from getting rid of the writhing burn that was the vampire’s soul restlessly moving under the skin of his right arm. 

And yet he was looking back at the cellphone. Hearing Sam’s voice had initially shocked him, but now it had done what it always had- grounded him in reality. 

His brother was alive, even if Sam thought Dean wasn’t. 

Worry was beginning to kick in, neither one of them had fared well in the other’s absence. When Dean was dragged to hell by vicious hounds his brother had all but given into the darkness that their father had always feared he had in him.

He didn’t know what his brother had become after Dean’s disappearance, but he needed to find out.

The phone call could be easily traced, all it took was a few calls to a network provider and a dozen carefully crafted lies that surprisingly rolled off his tongue.

He got his answer.

  


Sam was in Kermit, Texas.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


Dean spent the next 24 hours on the road, heading for west Texas. Fatigue never kicked in, if purgatory had taught him one thing it was to stay alert and ready.

The hunter chose busy highways over the rural back roads that both he and his father had preferred, the noises of other vehicles and the constant lane changing kept him focused. The desolate loneliness of a two-lane country road would have deafened him with silence. Instead he charged the old truck straight through Tennessee and Arkansas, watching as the terrain by the road side had turned to desert dirt, and only stopping when the gas tank got low.

Eventually he arrived in the suburbs of Kermit the following night, trying to locate his brother. His eager eyes scanned every driveway for a sign of a sleek black Chevrolet Impala. The search went on for hours and took him way into the early hours of the morning. Dean was beginning to lose all hope when he pulled into a street of small one-storey houses, spaced widely apart, and spotted a familiar looking vehicle.

His heart stopped momentarily as pulled closer to the driveway. There sat the Impala in all her glory, shinned and fixed to pristine condition. Dean blinked twice, thinking it was a mirage, but the car remained there in front of a modest looking house with a spindly black iron fence leading up the stairs to the front door. 

Dean pulled the truck to a stop a few doors away from the house as not to arouse suspicion. He got out of the vehicle in a daze and dreamily walked towards the building, his weapons all but forgotten about- left behind on the passenger seat. The hunter stretched out a hand to carefully trace the car with his finger before stopping to gaze into the driver’s window. No iPod jack sat beside the tape deck, in fact the inside of the car seemed just as untouched and clean as the outside had. There was no trace of Sam inside the Impala, nor any of Dean. It was as though they had ceased to exist.

Suddenly Dean spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head just in time to spot the blinds move back into place in the front window of the house. 

  


He was being watched.

  


All of a sudden Dean felt like an animal caught in the headlights. He realized all to quickly that he was unarmed. His eyes darted back towards the truck in the distance and wondered if he should make a break for it. But something stopped him, an overwhelming urge to hunt down the person inside the house- no matter who it was. A strange familiar feeling grew throughout his whole body, it felt as though he’d been transported back into purgatory and something was stalking him from behind the trees.

Slowly, Dean made his way towards the front door. His feet were light as he crouched low to avoid casting a shadow through the window and quietly made his way up the steps. When he arrived at the front door, he reached out for the handle, turned it gently to the side and heard it click open to allow him entry.

Without wondering why the door was unlocked, Dean walked into the dark house and scanned the place for signs of life. 

A deep growl was the only thing that alerted him to something waiting in the shadows, ready to pounce. Dean raised his hands as a four-legged animal jumped at him, its teeth snapping angrily whilst it barked madly. The hunter wrestled the mutt to the ground, his right hand wrapping around its throat to prevent it from taking a chunk of him. 

It truly had been a dream, he’d never escaped purgatory at all. He was back in that dead forest fighting against blood thirsty wolves again. Dean let his body go slack under the beast, all of his fight had swiftly left him and hopelessness replaced it with ease. He swore he could see the beast’s red eyes glistening in the darkness...

  


But then darkness became light with the flick of a switch. 

  


And a voice was yelling a strange word above him.

  


“Riot! _Riot!_ Come on boy!” 

  


In an instant the dead weight of the hound had disappeared, and Dean looked up to see his younger brother standing above him with one hand holding onto a normal-looking fluffy dog and the other aiming a gun down at the man who was lying defensively on his floor.

  


“ _Dean?_ ”


	10. O brother, what's the use of climbing?

* * * * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


Sam stared down at Dean in absolute disbelief. His older brother noticed that the man’s hand that gripped the gun was beginning to shake a little, but the weapon didn’t drop.

“D-Dean?” Repeated Sam.

“Yeah.” Answered Dean hoarsely. He looked down at the floor, unable to take the intensity of which Sam was looking at him, and muttered, “It’s me.”

“No. No way. Prove it.”

Dean looked back up at Sam, who’s eyes had become glassy and defiant. Had it really been that long, had he really changed so much that his own brother couldn’t except that it was really him? 

“You got a knife?” The hunter asked after a small silence and Sam almost did a double take.

“ _Knife?_ ”

“A silver knife. Or iron. Some salt. Holy water.” Dean cast his eyes around the neat suburban living room. There were no hunting books piled high, no field-stripped weapons covering all available surfaces. It was a civilian’s home, and Sam fitted perfectly into it.

“I-In the err- in the kitchen...” Stuttered Sam as he turned to glance at the ajar door behind him. It was a rookie error on Sam’s part and Dean took advantage of it. The hunter got to his feet while his brother’s head was turned and quickly grabbed the gun out of his hands.

“Woah! What the-”

“I’ll prove I’m me Sammy, but not by gun point.” He flicked open the gun chamber and let the three bullets inside melodically drop to the floor. 

  


Dean robotically walked into the kitchen as Sam’s dog growled angrily at him. For a second the hunter swore he could see the animal’s red eyes again and resisted the sudden urge to kick the thing. But instead he took a steadying breath and closed his eyes for a small second before pushing the kitchen door open roughly. 

As he entered the new room he heard Sam mutter something placatingly to the dog before he entered the kitchen as well and closed the door behind him.

“Hold out your arm.” Said Sam matter-of-factly as he opened a cutlery drawer and pulled out a small silver hunting blade stuffed behind the plastic organizer that kept the forks, knives and spoons segregated. The younger man had also seemed to regain some composure and somehow seemed less suspicious of Dean, as though he was allowing himself to believe his brother really was alive and standing in his house. 

Dean complied and raised his right hand before faltering and switching to his left. This move made Sam grip the handle of the blade tighter and Dean knew it made him look untrustworthy. He could literally see what little belief in him Sam had gained begin to ebb away again, but he couldn’t reveal the awful sight of the trapped vampire soul underneath his skin to Sam. His brother would probably run him through with his knife if he caught a glimpse of it. 

Thankfully Sam didn’t question him and instead pulled up the tight sleeve of the stolen flannel before drawing the edge of the knife across Dean’s skin. Bright red blood appeared almost immediately but Dean didn’t let so much of a hiss of pain escape his lips. 

“Right. One down.” Dean said as he rolled down his sleeve. He looked expectantly at Sam, who continued to stare at the now blood-stained knife as though he hadn’t expected him to bleed.

“Y-you, you don’t have to.” The younger man said shakily.

“Don’t have to do what?”

“Any more tests.” Sam’s sharp eyes widened as he spoke in an almost whisper, “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

“Sammy-” But before he could say anything else Sam dropped the knife to the floor and barrelled straight into him. Dean went rigid for a moment, not expecting the attack, before realizing that his brother was hugging him.

“I’m sorry.” Murmured Sam into his shoulder before pulling back and holding Dean at arm’s length, “I’m sorry I didn’t think you were real. It’s just- it’s been a year Dean. And you disappeared- you vanished. I didn’t know. I didn’t know-”

“If I was dead?” Dean finished Sam’s sentence for him before laughing in an undertone, “Huh, that would have been preferable.”

“Where were you? God Dean, you’re skin and bone. What happened to you?”

Dean turned away from Sam’s pitying gaze and answered quietly, “Purgatory.”

“You were in purgatory?” Asked Sam, sounding somewhat shocked, “For the whole year?”

“Time flies when your skinning monsters.” Deadpanned Dean and caught Sam’s jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. 

His brother let his hands slide off Dean’s shoulders and asked tentatively, “What about Castiel, was he there too?”

The hunter felt his blood run cold at the mention of the angel’s name. He was transported back to the portal in the chaos of the whirling wind and crackling of blue energy, peering out at a figure who stood in the clearing of the steep hill…

“No.” Answered Dean, pushing the memory down, “No he wasn’t.”

  


There were a few moments of silence as Sam stood awkwardly to the side of him, obviously wondering whether to push the subject further. But thankfully he didn’t.

“So, how’d you escape?” His brother enquired.

“Well. It was no picnic.” Dean smirked a little at that quip as Sam stared at him obliviously. Suddenly both his hollow stomach and Benny’s restless soul seemed pounce on the opportunity to deliver two horrific spikes of pain that had him cry out in agony and double over.

“Dean!” Yelled Sam and grabbed him before he could faceplant the tiled floor. His brother managed to maneuver him into a dining chair and Dean folded his right arm over his stomach and pressed them into each other as though trying to block out the pain coming from both regions.

“Hey, hey what is it? What’s wrong?” Sam was frantically trying to pull his arm away from his torso to get him to sit up straight again. 

“God when was the last time you ate?” He asked as Dean’s face began to soften after the pain let up, “Or even slept?”

“You don’t want to know.” Thankfully his stomach settled and Dean lent back in the chair, letting out a strangled breath. Sam stayed knelt down in front of him wearing a mask of deep concern.

“Come on Dean, you look-”

“What?”

Whatever he looked like, it seemed impossible for Sam to say out loud. But his eyes did some of the talking for him, and they told Dean that his brother thought he looked like an animal who’d been caged up and starved. Like something that was damaged and broken. 

“Let me cook you something.” Sam stood up and walked towards the fridge, avoiding the question all together, “We don’t have much groceries at the moment but…”

“I don’t want anything Sam.” Waving his brother off and skipping past that little word, _we_ , that alluded to someone else who might live here along with the dog. A girl maybe. 

A girl, a house and a dog. Had Sam really been living a cookie cutter life while Dean had been gutting monsters left right and center for his next feed? 

“I’m fine.” Dean tried to convince him but Sam crossed his arms and lent back against the counter. 

“No you’re not.” 

“Look I don’t need your food okay? And I don’t need your pity. This was a mistake.” The hunter got to his feet but quickly regretted it as the room swam before his eyes. Luckily he was able to play it off by ducking his head and blinking fast as Sam moved in front of the door to block his escape.

“Wait Dean you can’t leave-”

“I can’t stay. This- this isn’t me. I can’t sit in your kitchen and eat a meal Sam.” Just the thought of whatever concoction Sam was going to make him upset his stomach further. He couldn’t eat that food, he needed something else. He needed a monster.

The sound of Sam’s lively dog scratching and whimpering at the door distracted him from his dark thoughts.

“I mean… I almost killed your damn dog for God sake. Just- just tell me you have my stuff, that you didn’t throw it out the second I was gone.”

Sam looked offended. “What? Dean of course I have your things, how could you think-”

“Great. Just hand them over and I’ll be outta your hair.”

  


The two men looked at each other for a moment, the both of them knowing they were coming to a crossroads. 

Dean hadn’t quite given his brother an ultimatum but the unasked question still lingered between them… _are you coming with me or not?_

  


“Alright, I’ll give you your stuff.” Relented Sam, his hand resting on the door handle. “But I’m not letting you leave here alone.”

The younger man opened the door to the whining dog who immediately cheered up when Sam appeared. The canine followed his owner through the living room towards another door to the right.

“Don’t go anywhere!” Called Sam as he disappeared and Dean immediately found himself feeling awkward and out of place.

He wandered out into the living room as Sam looked for his belongings and cast his cautious eyes over a bookshelf that held a couple of picture frames. Dean walked closer and peered at a photograph of a wavy haired woman sitting on the grass with Sam’s dog, which he supposed was her dog too. She was a slim dark haired woman who wore a smile that looked like a piece of her was missing, or hidden away. 

Dean found himself thinking of Jessica, who had been the love of Sam’s life. Was this stranger, who’s appearance was so like all of Sam’s hook-ups since Jess’s death in terms of appearance, Sam’s new love? Or were they desperately clinging to each other, trying to forge something real?

“Hey.” Came the sound of Sam’s voice from behind him, making him jump. Dean hated how on edge he was and how he still felt like he was under constant threat.

“This is everything I have in the house, everything else is in the car.” Said Sam as he set a large cardboard box down on the sofa.

The hunter turned slowly and walked towards the box that was marked with one word in Sam’s neat block capitals:

  


**DEAN**

  


He gingerly opened the lid, now not even sure he wanted to see what sad excuse for belongings Sam had placed in it. To his surprise a familiar brown leather covered its contents.

“Yeah I erm- I’ll take that out.” Sam reached over and pulled the leather jacket that had once belonged to their father out of the box. It was then that Dean realized that this wasn’t just a box of his belongings, it was a box of memories for Sam- a memorial for his missing brother. Dean’s favorite cassette tapes lay in the box alongside some of his most-worn shirts, a blunt machete, and his ivory gripped pistol. At the bottom lay two battered up tins that contained all of his fake I.Ds and his collection of various cellphones.

He fished these out of the box and flipped open one of the phones.

“They’re all dead.” Said Sam as Dean stared at the blank screen.

“You didn’t even charge them? Not even dad’s?”

“No I… I guess I didn’t think about it.” His brother smiled awkwardly and scratched his head, “I don’t hunt anymore Dean.”

“Huh.” Scoffed Dean, he’d already gathered that much. Now that the initial twisted highs of their reunion was over, Dean felt anger and resentment starting to set in. “So you just up and decided to quit- as soon as I was gone?”

Sam avoided his eyes, “It wasn’t like that…”

“So tell me what it was like! Because from where I’m standing- and _looking_ -“ Dean gestured to Sam’s house bitterly, “You just turned tail on everything you knew as soon as you got the chance.”

The younger man recoiled as though he’d been hit, but the shock soon turned to anger that rivalled Dean’s own as he yelled back, “I lost everything Dean! You were gone. Cas was gone. Bobby was dead. Crowley even shipped off Kevin and Meg to parts unknown. I had no one! My whole entire family was dead.”

“I wasn’t dead. In fact, I was knee-deep in God's armpit killing monsters, which I thought, is what we actually do.” Some days that one thought had been the only thing that got Dean through the constant combat and the endless hunt for a suitable candidate for his next meal. The other thought was of Sam, out there alone in the real world. 

He’d sacrificed everything to escape purgatory, even his own humanity. And this is what he had to return to?

“As far as I knew, what we do is the thing that got every single member of my family killed!” Argued Sam, trying his best to make his brother see his side, “All I could think to do was fix up the Impala and then… then I just drove.”

“After you looked for me, right?” Dean asked, even though the answer to that question was all around him.

Sam at least had the decency to look guilty. The silence stretched out between them, the last time Dean had felt this alone was when the angel had abandoned him in the dark.

“I'm still the same guy, Dean.” Said Sam quietly, but to Dean’s ears it only sounded like an excuse.

He looked up at his brother with a blank stare.

“I’m not.”

A flicker of fear seemed to flare up behind Sam’s eyes but died quickly when Dean grabbed the tin box containing the cellphones and grabbed a corresponding charger.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked as his estranged brother walked past him.

  


“Looking for an outlet.” 

  


And Dean was, in more ways than one.

  



	11. They unto vengeance run as unto wrath

* * * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


Sam watched as his brother roughly unplugged a lamp and plugged in the charger. Dean sat down heavily on the floor and searched through the cellphone box until he eventually pulled out Sam’s old phone. 

“Guess I should check your messages.” Said the hunter in a low voice, but Sam heard it and even heard the part Dean didn’t say out loud- _Because you didn’t._

The phone came to life soon after Dean plugged it in. The brightness of the screen lit up Dean’s gaunt features in an eerie white glow.

Sam sat on the arm of the sofa, his hand tapping against his knee awkwardly as his brother slowly went through the phone. 

“Erm… So, you find anything?” Asked Sam hesitantly. 

Dean’s eyes moved to look up at him from under his brow but he said nothing, instead he raised the phone to his ear. Sam could hear a familiar voice speaking but couldn't hear what exactly it was saying. The voice seemed to go through four different stages- panic, fear, slurred anger, and calm.

At the end of it all Dean turned off the phone and placed it down on the floor. The hunter stared off into space, looking completely at a loss of what to do.

Sam stood up and moved towards his brother, “Who was it?”

“Kevin.” Replied Dean, his voice low and begrudging.

The younger man cleared his throat, Kevin was another part of hunting he’d packaged away. Now with Dean here, the responsibilities he’d given up were slowly but surely going to come back to haunt him, “Is he… Is he okay?”

“He escaped from Crowley.” Supplied Dean as he also got to his feet and shoved the phone roughly into Sam’s chest, “He wanted your help. And you couldn’t pick up the damn phone. Just another person you wrote off huh?”

“Dean… I didn’t know-”

“No, you didn’t _want_ to know. There’s a difference.” 

Sam sighed in annoyance and looked at his seething brother, “So what, do you want to find him? You got a place we can start?”

Dean’s boney features actually looked shocked, “We?”

“I told you I’m not letting you leave here alone, not when your…”

“What?” Interrupted Dean again, he wanted an answer this time, “When I’m what Sam?”

“Like this, okay! On edge, shaky, practically skeletal and not to mention you caving over in pain in the kitchen.” His brother turned away from him but Sam caught his forearm, which only made Dean tense up even further.

Sam let go before Dean could react and tried to level with him, “Dean, I think you need a few days’ rest.”

“And screw everyone else in the meantime, right? Kevin can wait, people will be okay?”

“That’s not what I said.” Sam said savagely before taking a deep steadying breath. He levelled a tired look at Dean that seemed to beg for understanding, “At least when you were in hell I knew… God I wish I’d saved you from it, but a whole year we lived under that doomsday clock. And when you were dragged there all I could do, all I could think about was getting you out. But when you and Cas disappeared… None of us were expecting it. I didn’t know if that explosion had killed you- there were no bodies. Just. Nothing.”

Dean didn’t say anything in return. Instead, he thought about what this last year alone must have been like for Sam. What do you do in that absence? They’d lived their whole lives with a mission, with something to save, solve or prevent. When all that’s taken away what do you do?

Sam had said he just drove. Until presumably he ended up here, in a house with a girl and a dog. And he’d stayed in that cocoon, out of the life, because… well Dean didn’t exactly know why. But he assumed it was because it had always been easy for Sam to blot out the monsters when they weren’t there.

Dean on the other hand saw them everywhere. There was no _‘out’_ for him. 

“You might as well have.” Said Dean bitterly, resentment returning as quickly as it had left him. He shot a cruel look at Riot who growled at him from the kitchen doorway and began to rub his arm anxiously, “I’m getting out of here Sam. I have to, I have to get out.”

His eyes began to dart around the room, the plain white walls felt like they were closing in on him and the vampire trapped beneath his skin seethed in anger, sending jolts of pain through his arm. All Dean wanted to do was drive until he happened upon a monster suitable to sink his teeth into. 

“Just give me my car, please.” Dean finally begged, “Please Sam.”

The desperation in his voice both startled and worried Sam. His hand hovered close to Dean but he didn’t touch him, the man seemed like he was one wrong touch away from breaking Sam’s arm.

“Woah, of course you can have the car Dean.” Placated the younger man, “Just hold up okay? Let me get some stuff together.”

“You’re coming with me?” Asked Dean, his face widening in shock as he finally took his distrustful eyes off Riot.

“Um, yeah. don’t you want me to?”

Dean didn’t actually know the answer to that question. In purgatory Sam had been his one goal, he had to make it through the constant battles- survive in any way possible- to return to his younger brother who had been left all alone in the world. But that survival by any means had made him a shell of a person, and a twisted version of a human. The monsters he’d feasted on in purgatory were a part of him now, he’d hacked up parts of his own soul whilst he tore and cooked the flesh of others. 

  


In hell the demons had tortured him and goaded him into taking up the mantel of torturer himself. What had been his excuse this time? Starvation? He’d been starved so many times in his life before but he hadn’t gotten truly desperately hungry, not until purgatory. 

All it had taken was unabating 360° combat for Dean to lose his humanity and he didn’t want his brother to see the full damage. Not even Dean himself knew the full extent of it yet, he’d barely been topside for two days- if that.

On the other hand, he’d told himself that once he saw Sam he’d be able to fix himself back into something that resembled a normal functioning human being. That hadn’t happened yet. So maybe he did need his brother around to help him through his adjustment back to life on earth.

“How long do you need?” Asked Dean finally, avoiding Sam’s question. 

His brother just nodded knowingly and answered, “I’ll be ready in 5.”

“You sure? What about all of...” Dean let his voice fade out. They both knew Dean was referring to the house and the woman Sam was obviously living with. He hadn’t expected Sam to be living out a vision of normality but according to the troubled look the younger man gave him, things were far from straight forward.

“Amelia will be fine, she’s a vet.” Said Sam as he moved towards the door to the bedroom again. He spoke quickly, as though he was embarrassed or had been caught in a lie. He hovered by the door frame, looked down at the dog, and smiled sadly, “She can look after Riot better than me anyway.”

Dean was momentarily surprised that Sam had mentioned the name of the woman and had so quickly decided to leave with him. But he pushed though thoughts away as quickly as Sam had brushed him off. Dean didn’t want to press his brother, he wanted to get on the road.

“Alright. So… 5?”

The edge of Sam’s mouth curled upwards and he turned away, “Yeah. I won’t be long.”

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


The two brothers walked out to the Impala together as Sam’s dog howled in the background, scratching away at the door Sam had shut behind him. The noise made Dean flinch as he remembered the awful sounds of purgatory that used to echo all around him as he tried to sleep on the cold hard ground. 

“Here.” Said Sam from beside him and Dean looked down at Sam’s outstretched hand. In it lay the keys to the car.

Dean marvelled at them for a second, wondering how many times they’d been used in his absence, before he took them from Sam and opened the driver’s door.

Sam watched as his brother climbed into the car. The world seemed to right itself when Dean sat at the wheel of the Impala, even if everything around them was crumbling. It was a sight he’d missed desperately.

Dean gripped the wheel tightly and smiled, “Hey baby, you miss me?”

If the car could talk, Sam was willing to bet it would sing a sad lament about it’s time without Dean. He’d learnt not to be offended by the cars strange unwillingness to drive like it did for his brother. It served as a reminder that something else had felt like a part of them was missing when Dean had disappeared and it had been a strange comfort to Sam.

The moment was ruined when Dean complained, “It smells like dog in here.”

Sam laughed a little and climbed into the car. He had toyed with the idea of taking Riot with them but after Dean’s reaction to him, he decided it was best to leave him here with Amelia. He swallowed hard as he thought about her returning home to find the note he’d left behind on their bed. All he wanted right now was for Dean to gun the engine and race away before he could reconsider this goodbye.

Luckily, Dean did just that. He brought the car to life with a lot more finesse than he’d managed with the truck he’d stolen. It was as though the Impala was an extension of himself and it responded readily to his steering. Thankfully Sam hadn’t installed anything new to the vehicle, the car had remained the same. This provided Dean with a little hope that he could return to his pre-purgatory state too.

  


They drove out of Kermit as though it was just another dead-end town they’d worked a case in. Dean had never felt sad about leaving a place, even as a child. There was always a new destination on the horizon and his father wasn’t one to look back, despite dedicating both his and his children’s lives to revenge. It didn’t matter how long they stayed in one place, they would always move on. That never came as much of a shock to Dean as it did Sam. His brother always got attached to something, a person, animal, school, hobby, building, etc. that would make it hard for him to move on.

Sam sat staring out of the passenger window and started to feel Dean a little awkward as he drove. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d once again tore Sam away from somewhere he’d chosen to run to.

Where were they even running to this time? To find Kevin? Dean hadn’t even tried to decipher any clues as to where the kid was. They were just driving into the abyss, hoping for some direction.

Dean knew he should turn back towards Louisiana and get rid of Benny’s trapped soul but he couldn’t just yet. He was starving for food and the vampire’s presence seemed to be the only thing in his system that was keeping him alert.

What he wanted was to stumble upon a hunt, but he needed intel.

He shot a glance at his brother before returning his eyes to the road and asking, “You caught wind of anything strange around here?”

Sam sat up in his seat and turned his attention on Dean, “Strange like… Our kinda strange?”

“Uh-huh, unless you just blocked all that out.”

“I tried to.” Replied Sam, looking down at his hands, “Old habits die hard though.”

Dean tapped the wheel impatiently. He was starting to feel like a junkie looking for his next fix.

“So?” He asked finally, shaking Sam out of his thoughts.

“So what? You want to work a case?”

Dean could feel Sam scrutinizing him but he tried to play it casual, “Might be good, for both of us.”

Another pause came and Dean looked straight ahead in an effort not to yell at his brother.

“You sure you’re…”

Dean cut Sam off harshly, “Okay to hunt? Sam, I’ve been fighting for the last year. Battle conditions. Every. _Damn._ Day. A hunt would be a relief.”

The atmosphere in the car returned and became uneasy again after Dean’s outburst. He sighed heavily, “This silence… It’s deafening me.”

Sam seemed to shift a little in the passenger seat until he finally caved in,“A few graves were desecrated over in Midland, bodies went missing.”

Dean’s ears practically picked up, "Ghoul?” 

“Sounded like it.”

“Midland it is then.” The older hunter pressed down on the accelerator to spur the car on. The thought of capturing a monster had Dean practically foaming at the mouth.

“Dean.” Came Sam’s uneasy voice from beside him, making him ease up on the gas.

“Sam, whatever it is you’re going to say- can you save it please? Lets just find this ghoul, start small.”

“That’s if there is a ghoul.”

“Well if not, then it’s some psycho digging up corpses.” Replied Dean, “We should take care of that at least.”

“Pfft. Dean, _we’ve_ dug up corpses.”

“Of ghosts Sam. We don’t…”

“Eat them?”

Dean swallowed hard, visions of campfires and severed limbs cooking slowly over flame flashed violently through his mind until he found the strength to stutter out, “Y-yeah. We don’t do that.”

Thankfully Sam didn’t read too much into Dean’s reply or notice the slight sheen of sweat that was starting to build on his brother’s brow.

“The police were looking into it last I heard.” Sam said as he returned this gaze to the window. Dean took the opportunity to wipe his own forehead with a slightly shaking hand.

“Oh great. Problem solved then.” He decided to vent at Sam again as it distracted him from his own demons, “Is this how you’ve justified this last year?”

His brother easily took the bait and fought back, “Dean not everything is our problem. Other hunters probably came along and worked the cases we didn’t. The world went on.”

“And if they didn’t? If people died?”

“People will always die Dean, whether we do anything or not.”

“Wow. You got yourself a nice house, a dog and a girl, and it made you into this. Must have been hell.”

Sam scoffed in shock but fired back at his brother, “Yeah and you came back from purgatory the picture of mental health. Want to ease up on that steering wheel Dean? You might break it in two.”

“Screw you Sam.” Dean said through his teeth, anger truly coursing through his veins. Sam soon began to feel guilty though. Some things never really change, Sam still broke his toys then cried and apologized over the wreckage.

“Dean look I’m sorry. I’m just- worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be.” Sighed Dean before shaking his head and softening his tone, We’ll do this hunt and we’ll be fixed Sammy.”

“You really believe that?” Asked his brother in a small voice.

  


Dean glared ahead at a sign pointing them towards Midland until it blurred his vision.

  


“I have to.”

  



	12. Whatever food under whatever moon

* * * * *

#  ________________

  


  


It took them much longer than Dean had anticipated for them to finally arrive in Midland, Texas. 

The brothers had spent most of the drive in silence before Sam finally broke it by blurting out, _“Aren’t you going to play any music?”_. 

Dean didn’t reply straight away, he only gave Sam a small sideways glance. Suddenly he felt immense pressure to turn back into the Dean that his brother remembered from a year ago. The memory of himself in Sam’s eyes had no doubt started to become rose-tinted and Dean’s less than heroic return probably ruined his image of his big brother, because the real thing is never quite the same as it was in your mind. 

Dean could try going through the motions like he had done after returning from hell, despite how numb he’d felt at the time, but surviving purgatory was a different matter. He couldn’t just turn on some busted old cassette and be Sam’s annoying predicable older brother to try and blot out the screaming of souls that haunted him. No. This time, he was just tired. And hungry.

After passing over the city lines Dean quickly realized he had no clue where to start on this hunt. Sam had mentioned that graves had been desecrated and corpses taken, but not where. Not one particular cemetery.

“Dean, you’re not seriously going to cruise around for what’s left of the night looking for a graveyard?” Asked Sam from beside him as though he’d read his mind.

“You got any other suggestions?”

“Yeah. I do. Find a motel.” Sam yawned, “Come on man, we’re running on empty here.”

 _Aren’t we just?_ Dean thought to himself. “Sam, there’s a job here you said it yourself…”

“And it’ll still be here after we get some sleep.” Argued Sam, reminding Dean of how stubborn he still was, “Look, we could question a few locals in the morning- find out some more info before you dive head first into this.”

The older hunter’s face stayed expressionless, “Just keep your eye out for a cemetery alright?”

Sam made a frustrated noise and raised his hands in annoyance, “God, have you forgotten how to work a case?”

“Have _you?_ ” Dean threw back at his brother just as harshly, “You’re the one who’s been living in suburbia for the past year.”

__

The fight seemed to uncharacteristically leave the younger man at that point and Dean began to feel a little guilty. He glimpsed at the beaten expression on his brother’s face and looked away quickly.

“Dean. Please, you’ve got to stop.” Said Sam in a fatigued voice, “Just for a few hours until we’ve figured something out.”

The older man sighed heavily and appeared to give in. A motel sign soon greeted them in the distance and Dean pulled in to its half deserted parking lot. He brought the car to a shuddering halt just outside the reception where a bored looking man sat reading a dog-eared paperback.

Sam seemed happy that his brother had listened in the end and smiled, “Okay. I’ll get us a room.” 

He opened the door and got out of the car. Dean watched as Sam approached the reception and saw the guy behind the desk look up to greet him lazily.

Dean’s hand rested on the keys that where still in the ignition. One turn and he could leave Sam safely behind, he could sleep while Dean went out hunting. 

Within seconds he restarted the car, which roared to life and drew the attention of Sam- who stared at him in alarm through the motel window. 

But before his younger brother could do anything, Dean reversed out of the parking lot and took off. 

  


He could vaguely hear Sam’s shouts from behind him as he drove away, but the hunter felt relief flow through him.

  


His brother wouldn’t see what he was about to do.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


Dean drove around aimlessly but he didn’t feel disheartened. If anything, he felt more alive than he had done since returning from purgatory. Nothing had felt real after he stepped through that portal, it was though he was walking around this earth like a ghost. But now he had an objective again, a hunt to return to. The buildings he drove past seemed to fade away into the background and large decaying trees replaced them. He was hunting prey in the jungle again, looking for his next meal.

His arm ached painfully but Dean ignored it. He was sure that after he killed this monster Benny’s trapped soul would quieten, or at the very least Dean would satisfy his hunger which would deal with one of the two main problems that were slowly driving him insane.

Finally, as he reached the outskirts of the city, he spotted a large cemetery. Dean’s heart began to beat faster in anticipation but he slowed the car down, turned off the headlights, and pulled over as stealthily as he could. The same hunting instincts he’d honed and perfected in purgatory were returning as he carefully got out of the vehicle and headed for the trunk.

Once he’d moved aside the box of his stuff and accompanying bags, Dean was half expecting to find the second compartment that housed their arsenal to be empty since Sam had quit hunting but was surprised to find it exactly how he’d left it, perfectly preserved. Dean was slightly taken aback and reached forward to touch the dreamcatcher that hung down over the weapons like a protector. It was there to guard them from the nightmares out there, but it had never done its job.

He broke free of these thoughts and reached for a machete. Dean held it for a second, expecting it to feel at home in his grip. Instead it felt strangely foreign and he found himself longing for his makeshift blade that had served him well in purgatory, but he’d stupidly left it along side that kid’s backpack in the stolen truck back in Kermit.

The machete would have to do. He toyed with taking a shotgun or pistol with him, but they were too clean. Guns could end a life so quickly and from yards away. A blade on the other hand required the skill to sneak up on prey and gut them personally. His gun had also betrayed him in the past, it had soon ran out of bullets after he landed in monster land and had been rendered useless. Blades on the other hand didn’t need to be reloaded.

  


Dean shut the trunk carefully and looked around. The dawn was starting to break, meaning that darkness was not on his side. He started to fear that the ghoul was long gone and the only thing he would find was its sloppy seconds, but Dean knew how long it took to exhume a grave singlehandedly and was willing to bet the monster was still here.

A sound in the distance seemed to prove the hunter right and Dean quickly ducked down behind the nearest grave stone. He peered over the cold granite to spot a figure near the bottom of the cemetery but couldn’t make out much due to the dim light. 

Dean’s heart began to race again as he stalked through the grave stones for cover, names of the dead flashed past his eyes as he got closer.

The sounds of something eating ravenously reached his ears and only grew stronger as he continued moving forward. Dean quickly took cover behind a large stone angel and glanced past its wings to view the creature who was now so close.

And there it was. The ghoul was sitting with his back to the hunter, but Dean could still make out what he was doing. The stench of the rotting corpse soon hit his nose and he spotted the mound of dirt that was piled up next to the ghoul. The legs of a long-dead body jerked below the creature as it ate.

The sight would be enough turn a sane man mad, but Dean had seen too many horrors for it to even register in his tortured mind. Instead he left the shelter of the stone angel and moved out into the open, slowly edging his way towards the ghoul with his machete raised.

The feasting monster was so pre-occupied with its meal that it didn’t hear Dean’s approach until it was too late.

It turned its head towards Dean just as it caught a glimpse of the hunter out of the corner of his eye and the two of them stared at each other for a moment that seemed to freeze time.

Dean looked at the ghoul’s human-like features that were marred by the smears of brown oxidized blood that covered its mouth and jaw. The monster began to open its mouth in alarm, revealing the dead flesh inside that lay half-chewed. 

The hunter was transported back to the first time the hunger got to him in purgatory, when he stood above that rugaru who had torn a chunk out of his shoulder and writhed around in ecstasy at the taste whilst Dean was starving.

The same anger and jealousy returned as he looked at the ghoul. Without hesitation Dean brought the machete down, slicing through his neck effortlessly.

  


The ghoul’s head fell to the ground, leaving his body to collapse on top of the human corpse he’d been feasting on.

  


Dean also fell to his knees besides the body of the decapitated ghoul as the high of the kill hit him hard. But infuriation began to boil his blood as he thought about just how easy it had been to dispatch the monster. 

There had been no fight, no bargaining, no playing with his food.

The hunter found himself wondering, _where was the fun in that?_

He stared down at the body and his stomach growled angrily. Dean swallowed and tried to regain some composure. He dragged the ghoul off the half eaten human body and set about dismembering the monster limb by limb. 

The hunter’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he worked on this gruesome task. When he finished, he grabbed a hold of a leg and an arm and carried them towards the car, not caring about the utter carnage he’d left behind for someone else to discover.

When Dean reached the Impala he grabbed a half empty duffle bag from the trunk and stuffed the body parts in haphazardly before throwing it back in the car. He closed the trunk and leaned over it for a second, breathing heavily. The man raised a shaking hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, as though trying to erase what he’d just done.

  


Dean steadied himself and reached for the lighter in his pocket before making his way to the front seat of the car.

  


If there was one thing he’d learnt from other monster’s mistakes, it was not to eat your food out in the open.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


Sam sat on the edge of a queen-sized bed in room 9 of the Easy Sleeper Motel, staring at the other empty bed beside him. Dean had drove off three hours ago, presumably to hunt the ghoul without him, and although Sam had bolted out of the reception when he realized what his brother was doing, he didn’t follow. Instead he stood in the middle of the parking lot and stared after the Impala until it disappeared from view.

He could have hot-wired a car and chased after Dean, but he didn’t. What Sam did do was push down his anger and disbelief and slowly walk back towards the reception. He then calmly asked for a room as the guy behind the desk looked at him nervously as though he was terrified Sam was about to unleash some of that buried rage on him.

The tall man just waited patiently as the receptionist practically threw a key at him and gestured in the direction of the room he’d given him.

Sam just turned and walked towards room 9 with fear, anger, guilt and grief threatening to take over him. He entered the room and couldn’t help but feel like he’d regressed back into that same adrift Sam from a year ago who’d lost everything.

He could have cried, he could have yelled and punched the walls, but he didn’t. The room stayed intact. Sam walked towards the corner of one of the beds, sat down, and felt the world cave in on him again.

Sitting in motel rooms in silence before aimlessly running away to the next one had became a weekly habit for him before finally a dog of all things ran out in front of the Impala, shaking him out of his paralysis. Sam thought about the sounds of Riot scraping at the front door and hung his head. He’d told Dean that Amelia would look after him and he was sure that she would, but that stray had helped him break through the nothingness that enveloped him when Dean disappeared. It had been a tough goodbye that Sam had tried to downplay for the sake of his brother who stared at the loving dog as though he was seeing a hellhound in his place.

Now he was without Dean again and he'd even left Amelia or Riot behind, no one was here to plug the void. The TV could have drowned out the silence but Sam left it on standby and stared at the benign red light that blinked rhythmically, wondering what in the world had happened to Dean in purgatory to turn him into the thin shell-shocked man who had appeared in his house.

  


Just as his eyes began to droop at the stillness of the room the door burst open to reveal his brother. The older man stood for a moment, silhouetted by the dawn light, before closing the door and entering the room. 

Sam’s eyes widened at the sight of him and the state that he was in. Dean was covered in dirt and speckles of blood peppered his face. The strong smell of smoke clung to him and began to fill the motel room, but worst of all was the blank look on his face that was devoid of any emotion.

The younger man opened his mouth but no words came to him. Dean’s eyes skittered past him as he slowly walked over to the other bed and glared at it before sinking down onto the floor in front of it.

“That- that bad huh?” Sam asked hesitantly, his voice breaking between words.

Dean turned his head towards Sam but didn’t look up. It took a moment before he answered back quietly, “No. Not that bad actually.”

“I’m guessing you found the ghoul then?”

“Yeah.” Nodded Dean in a low voice before silence returned. Sam stared down at Dean in disbelief, it was as though an intruder had walked into the room instead of his brother. The Dean he’d known would have give him the lowdown on every single thing that happened on a hunt, no detail would have been too small. 

Sam could barely stand to look at this empty shell that sat on the floor as though even a skeezy motel bed was too good for him.

“A-And?” He tried pushing his brother further but was surprised to see that it was too far.

Dean twisted around to finally face him, his eyes boring into Sam with hellish intensity.

“And? _And?_ ” 

The younger man recoiled a little but stood his ground. “That’s it?”

“That’s all Sammy.” Growled Dean before getting up again, “I found it. I killed it. It’s done.”

He stood up strangely and his stance was one that still seemed tightly wound, like one small noise would throw him back into battle mode. But Dean also stood a little taller, not has hunched over his stomach as he had done before. 

Suspicion began to rise in Sam, after all, Dean had been looking for a ghoul and ghouls could take on the form of people that they’d eaten… What if this creature wearing his brother really was a _creature?_

“Dean…” Sam carefully began to stand up too, “Tell me something.”

The older man blinked in surprise at the strange request, “Tell you something?”

“Yeah, something only you would know.”

“What are you-” He paused as realization seemed to seep through, “You think I’m a ghoul?”

“Just tell me!” Demanded Sam as Dean began to look bemused at the thought.

The small smirk was wiped off Dean’s face at the desperate tone of Sam’s voice and he stared at his brother. Sam twitched nervously, this was all he had. Holy water and silver were useless on a ghoul and he didn’t have them in the room with him- all their gear was still inside the car when Dean drove off.

Dean seemed to rack his brains for something to say and Sam was about to throw a punch at the man before Dean said one single word.

“Sunflowers.”

Sam was a little dumbfounded at the randomness of the answer, “W-what?”

“Sunflowers.” Repeated Dean, “You were in third grade and your class planted sunflowers. Except your group’s didn’t grow tall and you cried about it for a solid day.” 

The younger man couldn’t help but let out a small laugh and muttered, “It wasn’t for a day.”

“Sammy, it was. You even begged Dad to buy some seeds to so that you could try on your own.” Dean smiled fondly and suddenly, for the first time since he had returned, he was Sam’s big brother again. 

Tears began to prick Sam’s eyes and he cleared his throat to try and stop them from falling.

“Sorry. Sorry, I’ll stop trying to get you to prove you’re you. I just-”

“I know.” Placated Dean and he moved forward. His right hand began to raise as though he was about to squeeze Sam’s shoulder in reassurance, but it froze in mid-air as he winced in pain. 

“Dean are you hurt?” Instantly fretted Sam and tried to grab at his brother, “Here, let me see.”

“No!” Cried Dean, pulling his arm away from Sam in a panic, “I’m okay. I’m _okay_ Sam.”

The words didn’t even sound convincing to Dean's ears let alone his brothers, but before Sam could protest Dean backed away towards the bathroom.

“I- I need a shower.” He said as he pushed open the door, retreating like a cornered animal.

Sam was apprehensive still but figured that a shower would do Dean good. To his brother’s relief, Sam nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll get some clean clothes out of the car for you.”

“Thanks.” Answered Dean sincerely before he turned and closed the door on Sam.

  


Sighing in exhaustion, Dean slowly slid down the door to land on the cold tiled floor. He’d done it. He had executed a hunt and sedated his hunger with out Sam finding out. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the absence of the pain in his stomach that had longed for real food. 

The smell of the fire pit he’d built to cook the leg of the ghoul still clung to his clothes but he guessed that Sam had assumed that it was from burning the monster, and in a way it was.

He sat on the tiled floor and thought about that first bite of food he’d had in what felt like years. That trail mix he’d eaten that had made him vomit was soon forgotten as he rabidly devoured the meat from the ghoul’s leg. Dean had felt whole again; the incessant pain of the vampire’s soul had vanished away into nothingness as he ate. 

But Dean hadn’t been greedy, he’d been smart. From a young age he’d learnt not to take food for granted. _Always stock up._ So he had. He’d kept an arm for a later date, stuffing it into a duffle bag for safe keeping.

At the thought of the arm, Dean shot up immediately.

 _Sam._ He had gone to the car to get him fresh clothes. 

Blind panic began to set in as Dean tried to remember what had been inside that half empty duffle. It hadn’t been long, he could still stop Sam from making an awful discovery.

Dean fumbled with the door handle and broke out of the bathroom.

He was just about to yell for Sam when he almost ran into him. The expression on his face made Dean stop dead in his tracks.

That was when Dean’s eyes travelled to the bed to see the duffle bag sitting there, open, with a red stain blooming on the canvas material.

Dean looked back at Sam, his mouth opening to try and explain.

  


But before he could his brother punched him in the face, knocking him out cold.

  


  


It turned out he hadn’t been smart at all.

  



	13. He who has lost remains behind

* * * *

#  ________________

  


  


Dean groggily regained consciousness and tried to move his hand to his pounding head, but his arms didn’t want to move. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes to see his wrists tied to a chair that he realized that his arms _couldn’t_ move. 

A wave of panic swept over Dean in one fell swoop, driving away confusion and replacing it with fear. 

_They’ve finally caught me_ , screamed his mind. This was it. He became convinced that the band of monsters he’d fought in that jungle had crawled back to earth through the portal and trapped him. Now they were going to feed on him slowly as revenge for all the carcasses he’d left behind in purgatory.

  


The hunter started to fight madly against his bonds. He had to get out, he had to run.

  


“Stop!” Yelled a voice in front of him and Dean raised his eyes to see a terrified looking Sam hovering above him.

“Sam?” Dean blinked, he had been expecting to see a pack of hungry creatures in his place. He stopped struggling and stared at his brother, “What the-”

Then it all hit him at once. 

His brother. He’d had gone out to the car and discovered the bag that contained the left-over limb from the ghoul that Dean had killed and eaten. The older hunter could have prevented it, but he’d realized his mistake at the last second. 

Dean’s eyes soon fell on the duffel that lay in the exact same place on the bed it had been when Sam had thrown the punch that knocked him out.

Suddenly the panic returned and increased tenfold. Alarm bells were blaring in his mind, blocking out all other thoughts.

_Sam knows what you’ve done. HE KNOWS. Sam knows that you’re a monster. He knows what you are. He’s going to end you. **SAM KNOWS** … ___

____

He began to desperately struggle against the rope that tied both this hands and feet to the chair with even more intensity than before.

“STOP! Stop moving!” Cried Sam again, but Dean only stopped struggling when he heard the familiar sound of the safety clicking off his own pistol.

His younger brother was aiming the gun right at Dean’s heart. 

The sight of the pistol weirdly calmed him. Nothing moved in the motel room for a few moments, everything was silent and still but for the slight shake of Sam’s outstretched arm. 

Dean remembers, a lifetime ago, when he’d also tied up his brother thinking he wasn’t human. Sam had been so cold, so off, all because he was missing a vital ingredient- his _soul_. Now his brother had unknowingly followed the same course of action Dean had years prior and chosen to restrain the thing he thought was possessing his sibling's body. 

“What are you?” Breathed Sam into the dust speckled air. He looked so unsure of himself, like he was petrified of the creature that sat in front of him as well of the daunting possibility that he may have to pull the trigger.

“Sammy…” Tried Dean in his best comforting older brother voice, but was soon cut off.

“Don’t!” Yelled Sam, raising his hands and turning away from Dean. The tied-up hunter watched as Sam’s shoulders tensed up before falling back down as he regained self-composure and Sam turned back around to face him, but the gun didn't raise again, “Okay, just don’t. I found your stash in the car. I know you’re not Dean.”

“You tested me, Sam.”

“Yeah, but not everything.” Sam suddenly dived into his pocket, pulled out a flask of holy water, and doused Dean with it.

“Pfft.” The hunter spluttered as he spat the lukewarm water out of his mouth and tried to blink it out of his eyes.

Sam on the other hand had thankfully set aside his gun but was combing through a bag on the floor for something else to attack Dean with.

“You looking for salt?” Asked Dean with one eye open.

“Shut up.” Sam muttered whilst he searched. Finally, he grabbed a canister of some kind and poured it onto Dean.

For one small second Dean thought Sam had hold of a gas canister and was pouring fuel onto him. He held his breath and kept his eyes and mouth closed instinctively to stop a repeat of the holy water happening again. Dean stayed frozen like this, expecting to hear the flip of a lighter lid that would signify the beginning of his own fiery death…

But it never came.

In fact, he couldn’t even smell or feel gasoline on him.

Dean opened his eyes to see rock salt coating his chest and legs, the small white grains glinting slightly in the dim light of the room.

The hunter looked up at his brother who was wearing a dazed expression on his face.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Said Dean quietly.

“No. This can’t…” Sam muttered almost to himself, “You’re- you’re…”

“Nothing’s going to work Sam. I’m sorry but I’m me.”

Anger shone so brightly in Sam’s hazel eyes that Dean wanted to recoil but the ropes prevented him.

“No. If you’re Dean, then what the fuck is this!?” The younger man turned and grabbed the duffel bag off the bed and emptied its sad horrific contents out at Dean’s feet.

The charred half eaten arm of the ghoul fell to the floor with a sickening thump.

There, in all it’s full glory, was the evidence of Dean’s betrayal of his own humanity.

“Please Sammy,” Begged Dean. His eyes fluttered around the room, trying to avoid both his brother’s gaze and the sight of the arm stretched out on the ground, “Trust me you don’t want to know.” 

“I do. I _have_ to know.” Sam’s tone was changing and concern was beginning to bleed through. Dean felt undeserving of it and wanted Sam to return back to the anger that his new voice had replaced.

“Well fine.” Huffed Dean, pulling at his restraints again, “I don’t want to tell you!” 

“Why not? Whatever it is I can help.”

“You can’t.”

Sam sighed and sunk down to the floor in exhaustion. Dean watched as his brother dragged a hand through his long hair and shook his head. He kicked at the limb lying on the ground and looked up at the older hunter.

“Dean. I’m not an idiot. And I’m not blind. This arm, it’s been… cooked. There’s… Dean there’s chucks of it missing like-”

“Don’t say it.” Whispered Dean, closing his eyes in shame. He couldn’t even look at the arm, the smell alone was driving him insane. If he wasn’t tied up right now he wouldn’t have been able to prevent himself from pouncing on it and dragging it away like a hungry dog.

“God. This- This can’t be what you’ve been living off?” Sam stuttered in disbelief, “ _Monsters?_ ”

He couldn’t deny it anymore, couldn’t push it down and suppress it. Sam knew. It was over.

“I-I had to. For survival Sam, please.” 

Dean finally looked at his brother, his face open in complete fear of what he was and what he’d done. 

“Dean, you’re out.” Comforted Sam as though he was attempting to wipe that horrific expression off his brother’s face. “You’re back home now- you don’t have to do this anymore.”

“I know. But I can’t… I tried.”

“I’ll help you. We’ll wean you back onto food, you don’t have to do this alone.”

Dean laughed bitterly at that, “It won’t work Sam. I told you, I tried. I stole some camper’s backpack when I arrived back and tried to eat some food he’d left inside but I couldn’t keep it down.”

“You tried one thing and gave up?” Said Sam with his brow raised.

“It’s not just that!” Snapped Dean viciously, “It’s the hunt, it’s the hunger that won’t go away until I’ve gutted some monster and... e-eaten it. And now, I thought I’d get better once I stepped foot on earth again, but it’s only made things ten times worse. There’s something sick in me Sammy, and I can’t get it out.”

“Hey, hey. We’ll work it out- you and me, okay?” Sam gave him a small lopsided smile before sighing again, “First of all, let’s get you out of this chair.”

Dean couldn’t help but fire back at his brother, “You’re the one who put me in it.”

“Can you blame me? I mean…”

The younger man looked down at the severed ghoul arm still lying on the floor between them. Dean swallowed hard and clenched his fists. Sam had to get the arm out of this room before he let him free, but he was also terrified that he was going to destroy it.

“Sam, wait. Can you… Can you move it please?”

His brother froze, his hands hovered above the rope binding his wrists to the arms of the chair. 

“What?” He asked, “Move it where?” 

“Just back were you found it-”

“In the car? I can’t believe this- _you want to keep it?_ ”

Sam’s gaze was one of pure frustration and Dean knew he had to talk him down before he went off on a huge rant that would tear him to shreds.

“Listen I want to get better, I do.” Reasoned Dean, “But it’s like you said, I need to wean myself back onto food- and I can’t just… go cold turkey.”

“It worked for me before.” Sam said quietly, referring to the detoxing Dean had forced him through to help him kick his demon blood habit.

“This isn’t the same Sam. There’s no panic room, there’s no Bobby.”

The words cut them both deeply. The loss of the salvage yard was a hard blow, but the death of Bobby had been almost too painful to bare. Dean had pushed it down and focused on revenge whilst Sam battled with his own hallucinations that came close to killing him. Then before they could fully accept that their surrogate father was gone, his vengeful ghost returned after months of being stranded in the veil- refusing to move on.

They burnt the flask that Bobby’s spirit had been latching onto and the two brothers watched on as they lost another father, along with a support system that neither one of them could replace.

The hunters had ended up well and truly alone, in two separate worlds. But at least now they were alone _together_.

“Alright. Okay. We’ll keep it.” Came Sam’s belated reply as he once again moved to undone Dean’s restraints, but Dean instantly tensed up again.

“No wait!”

“What is it?”

“Can you move it now, before you cut me loose?”

Sam stared into Dean’s tortured looking face before ducking away. The older hunter watched on as Sam nodded slowly, seemingly psyching himself up. He took a steadying breath before grabbing the limb off the floor and moving it quickly back into the damp bag Dean had so badly hidden it in.

Once again Dean tried not to look at the charred arm as Sam stuffed it away, but the look of revulsion on his brother’s face as he undertook the task didn’t make him feel any better. Thankfully, Sam carried the bag out of the room and returned again in record time. Though Dean suspected that the reason for his haste was because Sam believed that he was going to use that time to try and escape. When he arrived back in the room slightly out of breath, he looked relieved to see Dean still tied to the chair.

“I don’t think I could have Houdinied my way outta the room in the minute you gave me Sammy.”

“Huh, well you could have tried to.”

Sam walked towards the duffel bag that he’d pulled the salt out from and drew out a small hunting knife. He walked towards his brother and knelt down to cut away the ropes at his feet before he moved onto his wrists.

Unfortunately Sam placed his left hand on top of Dean’s right forearm for purchase, eliciting a hiss of pain from Dean that he couldn’t hide.

“Dean! Okay that’s it, _what_ is wrong with your arm?” Questioned Sam, moving to pull up his sleeve.

“NO!” Yelped Dean in panic and attempted to move the trapped hand away from him, if Sam saw what was hidden under his skin he would no doubt go back to thinking he was a monster. “I’ve told you it’s fine!”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that and it’s obviously hurting you, just hold still!” Sam said between clenched teeth as he tried to slowly work his sleeve up his arm despite Dean’s best efforts to fight against him. 

It was completely useless. Sam moved the sleeve up to reveal the mottled glowing skin that bubbled angrily and stung like hell.

“Fuck.” Gulped Sam, “What the hell is that?”

Dean avoided Sam’s wide eyed glare and muttered, “It was part of the deal.”

“What deal?” Sam’s voice broke a little in between words, “What did you do?”

Dean felt anger surge it’s way to the surface inexplicably. He was sick, sick and tired of all this questioning and judgement. No one had any idea what it was like, to do all the things he’d done in hell and purgatory, and to come back to the dull painful normality of earth. His blood tinged visions of hell and now the grey lifeless forests of purgatory overlaid his sight so frequently now he was beginning to have difficulties figuring out were he was. But now, as he stared up at Sam, he knew he must be on earth. 

And he felt cheated.

“You think I just waltzed out of there?” Growled Dean, making Sam take a small step backwards, “Had a one year vacation then just decided to leave? Nothing was easy there Sam. I was fighting every second of every day, being hunted down by all kinds of bottom-feeding animals… Until…”

“Until you began hunting them.” His brother answered for him and Dean nodded, his rage leaving him again. 

“Yeah. And it got me even more attention than before. Two vampires were tracking me and attacked just as I was… distracted. One was about to rip my throat out before the other decapitated him.”

Sam blinked in confusion, “Why would he do that?”

“To gain my trust.” Answered Dean, remembering the aftermath of the fight vividly, “He started bargaining with me, said he knew a way out.”

“And the catch was?”

“The exit was for humans only, he needed me to haul his soul to the other side.”

Sam stumbled back to the bed, sat down on the edge of it, and stared at his hands for a second. Dean watched him carefully, wondering what was going through Sam’s head. All of Sam’s deals had fallen through or been declared void. Dean on the other hand seemed to have all the luck when it came to bad deals that came with a set of fucked up consequences. 

_Sorry Sammy_ , thought Dean, _but I thank God every day that he made you so bad at making deals._

Sam looked up as soon as he finished his thoughts, making Dean think that he’d voiced them out loud. But Sam just shook his head again, his long hair falling in his face endearingly like it used to do as a child, and motioned at Dean’s right hand with the blade he was still holding.

“So that’s- that is a vampire’s soul? Trapped in your arm.”

“Yeah.” Answered Dean plainly, “He told me to release it onto his bones to reanimate him.”

“ _What?_ You’re saying you could have been rid of it by now?” Raged Sam, “So why haven’t you done it?”

“I had to- I had to find you first Sam.”

The younger man shot up again and laughed in annoyance, glaring at Dean like he was a fool, “God… And you didn’t tell me because? You didn’t think I could handle it or something?”

“No. No, it was because…”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Because I didn’t want you looking at me like that!” Yelled Dean in return, “And it… it’s been the only thing distracting me from the hunger.”

Sam raked a hand through his long hair to push it back out of his face before looking down at his brother, “Dean. A vampire’s soul trapped in your arm isn’t a nicotine patch. We need to get it out.”

“I know.” He agreed, it was beyond time to get rid of it. But he also feared what bringing Benny back to life turn both of them into. Even now he could feel his soul screaming beneath his skin and Dean couldn't help but feel like his decision to ignore the problem had drove both to the brink of insanity.

“So you got a name?” Asked Sam outright.

“Huh?”

“A name for this vampire?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s Benny Lafitte. Buried in Louisiana.” 

“Not far then.” Sam remarked and looked down at the small blade he still held in his hand, “You got anything else you’re not telling me?”

“No Sam. No more skeletons.”

Sam scrutinised him for a moment as though he was trying to use strength of will alone to force Dean into confessing to any other sins. The older hunter just stayed as still as possible and stared up at his brother, awaiting his judgement. 

“Well, let’s go find one then.” Sam smiled morbidly, catching Dean off guard. The younger man moved forward to finally cut away the bonds holding Dean’s wrists to the chair. 

The ropes slid from his arms to the floor, releasing him. 

  


But Dean still didn’t feel free, in any meaning of the word.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


Sam had quite literally taken the wheel and drove them out of Midland in a cloud of dust. Dean sat uneasily in the passenger seat of the Impala, feeling the heavy presence of the severed ghoul limb that his brother had begrudgingly returned to the trunk. 

The two men said very little to each other on the long journey. In the past it would have been an comforting easy silence, one that fell over them as they drove to their next location. But now there was an intensity to the silence that was made even more static by Sam’s uncharacteristically fast driving. 

Six hours into their journey, the sleek black car made her way across the state lines of Texas and into Louisiana. Dean had been dosing restlessly against the car window when his arm flared up in pain. His body tensed in response and made his eyes fly open just in time to see a sign with a pelican on it welcoming them to the very state he'd been dreading visiting.

It was as though Benny’s soul was reacting to being back on home turf and Dean couldn’t help the little pang of guilt he felt at leaving this job so late. He was completely conflicted over this situation, he had no idea what would go down between them all when he reanimated Benny. Would the vampire attack him in anger at how long he’d taken or would he have no recollection of being trapped inside Dean? 

And then there was Sam. Would he send Benny straight back to purgatory as soon as his soul left Dean’s body? Neither of the brothers had talked plans or tactics, maybe because this wasn’t a hunt. It felt more like a mission, or a unholy pilgrimage.

Dean stared at the cracked asphalt as the car ate it up greedily and wondered what this trip was exactly. Maybe Sam saw it as a new beginning, a chance to free Dean from at least one of his afflictions. 

Dean on the other hand couldn’t help but feel a sickening dread creeping up on him as though the end was nigh.

  


As they neared Clayton the bright sunlight they’d experienced throughout the day seemed to dim and Sam began to find his voice again.

“We’re close.” He said, turning the radio down, “Clayton’s coming up in the next 30 miles or so.”

Dean grunted to indicate he’d heard, but Sam still shot him a look.

“When we get there, you do know where to go right?”

Dean sighed and shifted uncomfortably, “Yes Sam.”

“So?” Prompted his brother when Dean didn’t elaborate, “Fancy enlightening me?”

“You’ve barely said a word to me this entire journey and now you want to talk what?” Snapped the older man irritably, “Battle plans?”

“I’d like to know what we’re running into yeah.”

“You’re the one running to Clayton Sam, not me.”

His brother looked a little taken aback and asked, “What? Don’t you want that vampire out of your arm?”

“I’m just saying-”

“Dean, this needs fixing okay? Then we can move onto…”

“My new diet plan?” Interrupted Dean angrily, “What are you thinking, Atkins or Master Cleanse?”

“Stop joking around. This isn’t funny.” Deadpanned Sam as he overtook a slow moving car.

“Oh I know it’s not. And I also know that this isn’t going to fix anything.”

“One less problem though.”

“Yeah, one less problem in a sea of problems.” Muttered Dean.

“Look let’s just get this done alright?” Sam ploughed on, either not hearing what Dean had said or ignoring it, “Can you at least tell me what this Benny told you?”

Dean racked his brains and tried to remember Benny’s words before they cast the spell that allowed the hunter to absorb the vampire’s soul. 

A sense of calm came over him as he envisaged himself and Benny stalking through purgatory as the tree began to thin-out. They had spotted the shining portal at the top of a large hill. Benny had been true to his word. He’d helped him find the way out. So in turn, Dean kept his favor. 

The vampires words rang clearly in his ears…

“He said to find the old Lafitte plot in Clayton, walk four steps from a wooden windmill, then dig.” Relayed Dean, as though he was on autopilot.

“And that’s were he’s buried?” Sam asked, sounding a little skeptical.

“Yup.”

“Then you what? Empty this soul into his grave?”

“I guess so. I say some Latin then up sprouts Benny… I don’t know.” Dean hung his head and wiped his hand over his mouth, “I don’t know how this is going to go down Sam.”

“It’ll work, don’t worry.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?”

  


Dean didn’t answer. And surprisingly, Sam let it slide.

  



	14. Maintain the melancholy souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been following this fic you may be thinking, "Wait, didn't they say there was only one or two chapters left?"
> 
> Well, I thought there was. Until I starting writing the end. Like I said I was split between an ending I really wanted from the start and where I thought the story was going, then it just kept going. And THEN I figured it had to be separated out into three chapters to flow well and not give everyone a near 10000 word chapter to read.
> 
> I think the final season announcement really did a number on me (and everyone) but I hope you enjoy these final chapters!!

* * *

#  ________________

  


  


The sun had come and once again retreated away, giving way to the night. And in its wake came the Winchesters, who drove into Clayton with one thing on their minds.

The Lafitte plot.

Sam had taken it upon himself to question a cashier at a gas station, hoping to be pointed in the right direction, whilst Dean stayed inside the comforting black car. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the vehicle. Although Sam had drove them here, robbing Dean of another chance to drive his baby, just being inside the Impala was enough for him right now. 

The hunter stayed slumped against the car window watching other cars pull up to the pumps. Each one of the drivers slumped out of their vehicles and filled up the tanks with the blankest looks on their faces. Dean stared at these lifeless people as they acted on autopilot, their dead eyes watching the fuel display as the numbers climbed up, before they walked like zombies into the gas station.

Yes, purgatory had looked lifeless, but the animals who inhabited it acted alive. Here on earth, it was the other way around. Watching the humans now, Dean couldn’t help but wonder why he’d fought so hard to return.

His brother suddenly emerged out of the automatic doors and walked towards the car with a small plastic bag emblazoned with the words _Thank You_ over and over again. Dean scrutinized it and noticed something disc-like inside.

Sam climbed back into the car and shoved the bag in the back. Dean cast it a small glance and raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I think it is, is it?” He asked. Sam, to his credit, tried to keep a passive look on his face up until Dean reached back for it.

“Wait, wait- Dean…” 

But Dean had already moved aside thin plastic bag and was staring at that cold latticed apple pie that lay hidden inside.

Okay, so not quite the food he needed right now.

“What the fuck Sam, _really?_ ” Snapped Dean before he could help himself.

“I just thought- after all this…” Answered his brother quietly, sounding like a little kid who had tried to do something good only for it to have blown up in his face. 

Dean’s face softened a fraction. He appreciated the thought, but the smell of the pie alone was already turning his stomach violently. This had to be the one time Sam had actually followed through and bought him some pie and Dean couldn’t stand the sight of it. _Heh_ , laughed his fractured mind. _Ain’t that a kick in the head._

Dean tried to change the subject as he re-covered the pie and returned it to the backseat, “You erm, you hear anything inside?”

“Yeah.” Nodded Sam, thankfully losing that kicked puppy look from his face, “Cashier guy didn’t know much about any land belonging to the Lafitte’s, but he said you can see the old windmill from the road out of town. If you turn up a dirt road he thinks you can reach it.”

The older Winchester looked skeptical, “Well that’s solid.”

“I know. Guess we’ll have to see if we can make it.” Sam sighed and shuffled in his seat. 

Dean watched as he turned the ignition and brought the car to life. If Dean had been driving, he would have backed out of the gas station blindly, hands slipping effortlessly through the wheel as he pointed it towards the asphalt and took off down the unknown road.

But Sammy was driving, and he backed the car out forlornly. No magic. No nothing.

  


Dean sat in the passenger seat and felt dread cover him like a thin white sheet. 

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


The cashier had been right. The old windmill stuck out clearly from behind the trees as they neared the city limits. Sam uncharacteristically took a sudden left that sent Dean crashing into the side of the door, agitating his already aching arm even further.

“Fuck!” Dean cried out in pain.

“Sorry, I nearly missed that road.” A small smile rose on Sam’s lips, “Now you know how I feel when you take turns like a psycho.”

Dean flinched a little at Sam’s choice of word, _psycho_. It rang in his head over and over again as the vehicle started to make its way up the small road.

“Just… Just be careful with my car.”

It was slow progress, the Impala jumped and rolled in and out of pot holes and over stones awkwardly as Sam tried his best to avoid the worst of it. 

The further the road took them into the low hanging trees, the worst Dean felt. The pain in his arm seemed to be reaching a crescendo as though Benny’s soul could sense their proximity to his remains. Dean tried to ignore the burning sensation by looking out at the dark trees and bushes that lined the road, but his eyes began playing tricks on him. Shadowy dark figures darted between the shrubbery, following their car… Each one of them an enemy. Each one of them food.

The hunter turned his head away quickly and scrunched his eyes closed, trying to block out everything that was eating away at him from the inside out. The pain, the hunger, the _memories…_

  


“Dean? Dean! Hey, we’re here man.” Sam was shaking his shoulder and it took a second too long for his words to sink in.

Dean opened his eyes to see two moss-covered brick columns lit up by the Impala’s bright yellow-hued headlights. He blinked hard at the one on the right that held a stone. 

A stone carved with the name Lafitte.

“We’re here.” The older hunter echoed his brother and swallowed hard. Sam was already exiting the car and Dean was about to follow, but froze when he heard the younger man open the trunk.  
He couldn’t go out there right now. He didn’t want to see or smell that bloodstained duffel bag that was still hiding in the back like a not-so-hidden secret. No, right now Dean needed his game face on. There was no telling how this vampiric reanimation was going to go.

The hunter waited until he felt the car jolt with Sam’s closing of the trunk and took a steadying breath. He went to open the car door but it opened for him.

Sam stood there with a gun bag slung over his shoulder and two shovels in his left hand. He was looking in at Dean with an anxious look on his face.

“You’re not, or _its_ not…” He said hesitantly, nodding at his arm, “Having second thoughts about this, is it?”

As if in response, his right arm spiked in pain so suddenly that black marks appeared at the edges of Dean’s vision. He hissed a little and tried to talk through it.

“No, we’re not.” He said through gritted teeth and got out of the car. Sam moved to the side and Dean got the feeling the only reason he didn’t help him out like an ailing old lady was because his hands were full.

Once Dean got to his feet, he looked up at the old windmill that still turned with the light wind. He looked around, expecting to see a ruin of a house but found nothing. Perhaps whoever had killed Benny had burnt it to the ground and the grass had swallowed up the foundations, wiping out any sign of who’d resided here.

His brother looked at him expectantly, after all, he was the one with the vampire soul in his arm. He was taking point on this mission. Dean didn’t look back at him, instead he began to walk towards the windmill, trying to recount Benny’s instructions.

  


_“Listen very carefully. When we get topside, you need to go to Clayton, Louisiana. Find the old Lafitte plot, walk four steps from the wooden windmill and dig.”_

  


The ground was damp and overgrown. As he walked, he felt the earth shift slightly when he neared the base of the windmill. He knew the feeling of walking over a grave well and he already knew this was where they should dig. 

But all the same, Dean followed Benny’s instructions to the last letter. He stood in front of the wooden windmill, turned, then took four steady steps out into the grass again.

Sam watched by the side, shovels still hanging in his hand.

“This is it.” Said Dean, tapping the ground with his foot. Time to dig.

His brother nodded and walked towards him, handing him a shovel. Dean took it and they both sunk the spades deep into the soft ground, working in tandem to dig themselves into another hole.

The more they dug, the more it began to feel like they were on a standard case. Just the Winchesters digging up some bones ready to salt and burn. 

But they didn’t talk, no easy back-and-forth went between them as they shovelled away the ground beneath them. When had they last had a case like that? One where it wasn’t so personal? Now everything was a vendetta, no matter how big or small it was. Everything was a battle.

It was Sam who first hit the whites of what turned out to be a skull, set on its side. As they uncovered the rest of Benny’s bones, it turned out to be a noticeable distance away from his torso. 

Dean stared down at the mess of remains beneath him and wondered whether or not this was going to work. Benny’s soul was certainly alive within Dean but this wreck of a body was a different story.

“Dean? Need a hand?” Asked Sam, who’d already climbed out of the grave and was holding out his arm to his brother.

The older man took it tightly and together they heaved him out onto the grass. When Dean got to his feet beside Sam he steadied himself, then withdrew the small silver knife that had travelled with him all the way to purgatory and back.

As he began to roll up his sleeve Sam stopped him, “Wait. Do you want me to move?”

“No.” Answered Dean after taking a second to consider it, “No I need you here if something goes wrong.”

“You mean if you…” Sam let his sentence slide away, but they both knew what he meant.

Dean just nodded his head once and pulled the sleeve up higher to reveal the angry red skin bubbling and glowing beneath. The agony was so intense he was glad Sam was beside him to catch him if he collapsed into the grave.

The hand holding the silver knife was beginning to clam up with sweat. He knew he had to do this now before the pain got too much.

The hunter brought the knife over to hover above the writhing skin and angled it a little before drawing the blade across his arm to crave out a deep steady cut.

Dean hissed as what felt and looked like molten hot lava began to flow out of the wound. The liquid burnt as it ran down his arm but Dean turned it quickly so that it could fall onto the vampire’s remains. 

He tried not to look as the red glowing ooze fell into the grave and instead tried to recount the next steps Benny had told him back in purgatory.

  


_“Repeat this; Anima corpori fuerit corpus totem resurgent. Then your debt is clear.”_

  


Hoping that he’d remembered the Latin correctly, Dean cleared his throat and grit out between breaths, “Anima corpori fuerit …”

His hand was beginning to shudder with the pain and he felt Sam shift next to him. Dean clamped his jaw shut against the burning and all but yelled the last words, “Corpus totem resurgent!”

Instantly the liquid that had fallen on the bones began to crackle and produce small forks of lightning. The lava continued to flow out of his arm faster and he cried against the pain, his legs were beginning to fail him and he could hear Sam calling his name.

A flash of red light engulfed the grave below them and suddenly Dean couldn’t stand anymore. He fell to the side and Sam caught him. Distantly he could feel his brother pulling him back and patting his face.

“Dean! _Dean!_ Come on, are you okay?” He fretted as Dean’s eyes fluttered back open.

“ ‘m fine.” He pushed Sam away weakly with one hand and tried to sit up, but Sam misunderstood and quickly pulled him to his feet.

“Woah. Easy.” Said his brother as Dean swayed a little, a hand gripped his shoulder then pulled his right arm up to look at the damage.

But the only mark on Dean was the cut in the now perfectly normal skin that was bleeding human looking blood sluggishly.

The soul was gone.

As if the two brothers were wondering the same thing, they both peered over into the grave they’d dug to see if there was a living breathing vampire inside. 

To their surprise, there was nothing. Not even bones.

“Did it work?” Asked Sam in confusion.

“I don’t know. Maybe I said it wrong or-”

But Dean was cut off by a sudden snarl and someone barrelling straight into him, causing him and the creature to fall heavily into the hole beneath them.

“DEAN!” Yelled Sam from above him as the hunter looked up to see Benny looming over him with his sharp fangs bared in a snarl. He struggled against the vampire, but the grave was so enclosed that the only thing he managed to do was disturb the ground surrounding him and cover himself with dirt.

“I-It’s me Benny!” Dean choked out against the earth that went flying into his mouth, “It’s me!” 

“I know it’s you.” Growled the vampire and threw his head back. The hunter began to panic, feeling more trapped than he’d ever been in purgatory. But before Benny could attack, four gunshots stopped him in his tracks. 

The vampire cried out in pain as the bullets hit him. Dean watched as blood bloomed slowly on Benny’s shirt and he began to sway slightly to the side.

Fuelled with adrenaline, the hunter took his chance and scrambled out from beneath the monster to find that Sam was reaching for him, the gun he’d just fired in his left hand. Sam helped Dean out of the ground again and went to pull him behind him but froze, looking at him in horror.

“What?” Asked Dean anxiously, noticing that Sam’s face had started to turn white.

Sam just looked down at Benny then back at his brother, “Dean, you’re…”

The older man followed where Sam’s gaze had gone. He turned to see Benny’ hunched over in the grave, breathing raggedly, with three bullet holes in his back.

  


Three. When Dean had heard Sam fire four.

  


Then he realized, as pain began to build in his shoulder, where the fourth bullet had gone.

“God, I’m so sorry!” Panicked Sam as Dean placed a hand where the pain was growing and withdrew it to stare at his bloodied palm.

“Sammy it’s fine. Not the first time I’ve been shot in the shoulder.” He consoled his brother, sucking air through his teeth as he spoke. It wasn’t even the first time Sam had shot him in the shoulder, though they did have a demon to thank for that.

This was a familiar pain, one he could handle. It was different to the living burning sensation of Benny’s trapped soul, different to the deep ache for the flesh of a monster. A bullet paled in comparison to all of the other hurts that plagued him, and it was strangely comforting.

There was movement from the grave and the two hunters looked over to see Benny trying to crawl his way out, but he was making slow progress.

Sam raised his gun again and aimed it at the vampire’s head.

“Don’t move.” He said dangerously, but Dean put a hand over Sam’s to try and make him lower his gun.

“Sam, wait.”

“ _What?_ He attacked you.”

“He deserved it,” Laughed Benny from the ground, “For making me wait so long trapped inside his damn arm.”

Dean couldn’t help but quirk a smile, “Sorry for the wait.”

Sam shot Dean a look that clearly said: _what the hell are you playing at right now?_

“What happened? You find some all you can eat monster buffet?” Benny interrupted as he propped himself up against the walls of his grave.

“He knows?” Asked Sam incredulously.

Dean sighed and answered quietly, “He was there Sam, yeah he knows.”

“I’m also the reason Dean-o here is topside.” Called Benny, his hearing as strong as ever, “Still waiting on a thanks for that.”

The younger hunter’s chest rose in annoyance, “You just tried to tear his throat out!”

“Well he just has that kinda effect on people.”

Benny seemed to gather up his strength and jumped up a little to claw at the ground. With a yell of hurt against the bullet wounds in his back he managed to pull himself halfway out of the grave. Dean found himself moving forward to help but Sam pushed him back protectively.

“Dean, are you insane? You’re _bleeding_.” Hissed Sam, obviously worried that the blood from Dean’s own bullet wound was going to send Benny into some kind of frenzy.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to drain you both.” Said Benny as he turned over onto his back and attempted to sit up right on the grass. “I drink blood, not humans. And Dean, he don’t even smell human from here.”

Both Sam and Dean stared at the vampire in alarm. Sure, Dean had felt subhuman ever since his first taste of a monster back in purgatory. But to hear someone say it out loud chilled him to the bone.

After all this, he still felt like a lost cause.

“What do you mean?” Inquired Sam anxiously, giving Dean a sideways glance.

“I mean, chowing down on all kinds of things that lurk in the dark isn’t exactly good for the soul.” The vampire explained and turned his head to address Dean, “Sorry brother, but something dark is growing in you.”

The hunter’s stomach felt hollower than ever, like an endless pit that would never be filled. Now that Dean had released Benny and repaid the debt, truths that the vampire had held on to for fear of pissing off Dean in purgatory were now rolling freely from his tongue.

“Can you help him?” Sam asked earnestly and Benny considered them both for a second.

“I can’t no.” He answered, looking surprisingly sorry, before continuing, “But I might know somebody who can- if they’re still around. Question is, what’s in it for me?”

The younger man moved forward and without skipping a beat spoke directly to the vampire, “You’ll kept your head on your shoulders.”

Benny chuckled, as amused as ever at the familiar sounding words.

“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “I don’t suppose you brought me a juice box?”

“You didn’t tell me to.” Said Dean as he pressed against the wound in his shoulder. He could feel the trapped bullet inside and he knew that Sam would have to go fishing for it.

“Well I also didn’t tell you to leave me in your arm for days, or for your brother to shoot me.” Quipped Benny.

“Who can help him?” Said Sam bluntly, cutting off the conversation and dragging the attention back to their biggest problem.

“Dominique Delacroix.” Benny answered in his thick Louisianan accent, “She’s a practitioner of sorts.”

Both Sam and Dean exchanged looks before Dean asked, “Of what exactly?”

“Voodoo.”

“Voodoo?” Sam exclaimed, laughing slightly, “Seriously, you think some priestess can fix Dean?”

“Hey it’s mealy a suggestion, friend. But you need someone who can assess the damage. Ain’t no doctor can do that for him now.”

Benny was right of course, but it didn’t make the truth any either to swallow. They had no angel on their shoulders anymore who could diagnose or fix their ailments for them. Castiel’s powers were something they had started to take for granted, now they had to take help where ever they could. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Where is she?” Relented Sam, shocking Dean at how easily he’d moved past his initial distrust.

“The Bywater in New Orleans.” The vampire answered, stumbling to his feet, “My family would travel to see her for gris-gris bags, ointments and the like.”

Sam raised his brow at the mention of 'family', “You mean your nest would?”

After stumbling up, Benny shot Sam a dark glance that jarred with his more recent cocky behavior.

“No. My real family, before I was turned.” He said darkly, putting the two hunters on edge again.

“So how do you know she’s still alive?” Dean asked to relieve some of the tension. Thankfully Benny’s hostile stance changed.

“I don’t. But I’m a gambling man.” Smiled the vampire, “I’m willing to bet she is.”

  



	15. Sinners even to the latest hour

* *

#  ________________

  


  


They drove away from Clayton minus a soul trapped in Dean’s arm, but plus a vampire in the backseat of the car. However, Benny seemed way too occupied with staring out of the window in disbelief to bother Sam much, he had the glass rolled down almost the bottom and watched cars and buildings pass by with a sad smile on his face. Eventually though, the wind and the chill from the open window began to annoy him. It didn’t seem to bother Dean much, who sat in the passenger seat with a dead look on his face that Sam tried to ignore. 

“Can you roll it up now please?” Sam shouted over his shoulder to Benny but he didn’t seem to hear.

“Hey!” Sam yelled as he pulled up to a red light, “Can you roll it up?”

“I’d rather not friend. Your brother’s still bleeding and if I close it, it’ll be all I’ll smell.” Replied the vampire. 

The younger hunter sighed heavily and pulled away again when the green light appeared. He’d rather Benny didn’t drain what little life seemed to be left in his brother, even if the vampire thought there wasn't much humanity left in Dean. 

“Fine. But we’ll be stopping soon.”

“Any blood banks nearby?” Asked Benny, making Sam wonder if he was joking or not.

“How am I supposed to know that?”

The vampire smiled and shrugged Sam’s unhelpfulness off, “Huh. No worries. I’ll fend for myself.”

He returned to looking out the window and Sam turned to cast his quiet brother a worried glance. Dean was still staring dead-ahead with unfocused eyes, but at least his chest was rising and falling steadily. 

  


Sam pushed down a little harder on the gas pedal, searching for a motel to set up camp in for a few hours on their way to New Orleans.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


On the outskirts of Baton Rouge, the Impala pulled into a suitable dump right off the highway. The motel had the same set up he’d seen a million times before and he set about the usual routine. He walked to the reception, gave the person behind the desk a fake credit card, and requested a room for what was left of the night. 

When Sam returned to the car he was surprised to find it empty. As he began to look around in panic, he quickly spotted both Benny and Dean standing next to an old Toyota Corolla that was seemingly abandoned at the far end of the parking lot, with their backs turned.

“What are you doing?” Demanded Sam, making Dean jolt back around.

“Oh, it’s just you Sammy.” Said his brother in relief, clutching onto a screwdriver.

“Are you trying to jack a car?” 

Sam was under the illusion that the two of them were trying to steal a car and leave him behind. But if that was the case, why wouldn’t they have just taken the Impala?

“Well, yeah. Just for Benny.” Dean clarified, “He’s going to, you know, find a hospital or something.”

“Right.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Grinned Benny as Dean climbed inside the car and began hot-wiring it by unscrewing the plastic from the steering column and stripped the wires. In no time at all, Dean started the car by bypassing the circuit.

“When you wanna kill the engine, just unfasten these two wires-” Dean lifted the battery and ignition wires up a little to show Benny. 

The vampire nodded, “And to start it again?” 

“Spark the starter wire.” Answered Dean as he slid out of the car.

Benny climbed in and lowered the handbrake. He gave the brothers a quick salute before driving off erratically like a driver who’d just gotten their license.

“I was 14 when you taught me how to hot-wire a car.” Said Sam as they both watched the Corolla disappear down the highway.

“It’s an important skill.” Replied Dean defensively as though Sam was somehow getting at him, but the younger man agreed with him.

“Yeah. It was. You also taught me how to treat bullet wounds.”

“Sam…” Warned Dean. He was in no mood to have a bullet dug out of his skin right now. The hunter had hoped that Sam would pass out for a few hours before they had to face what felt like Dean's final trial and maybe, just maybe, he could snake the car keys off his brother and eat what was left of the ghoul arm that was festering in the trunk. 

“Come on, we’re in Room 11.” Sam ignored his small protest and dragged him towards one of the numbered sun-yellowed doors.

“You go in.” Sam said as he tossed him the keys to the room, “I’ll get the med kit.”

Dean looked down at the keys and sighed as his stomach lurched so badly he had to clutch his middle tightly with his good arm. There was only one thing in the car that would help, and it wasn’t the med kit. Or even the apple pie.

  


If he was going to get through a bullet extraction and stitches, he seriously needed to eat the rest of that ghoul.

  


The hunter walked over to Sam who had already opened the trunk and was searching for the med kit under all the bags and boxes. Dean snuck behind him and immediately spotted the small stained duffel stuffed away in the corner of the trunk. He could even smell the ghoul’s rotten arm from where he stood.

He was suddenly overcome with hunger that the pain from this shoulder completely faded away. Dean’s hand curled into a fist ready to knock out his brother and steal the bag. He didn’t care how spoilt the meat possibly was, he would eat any monster’s corpse right now.

Just then Sam turned around, medical kit in hand, and almost walked into Dean.

“Jesus, Dean! I almost dropped the kit.” Said Sam in surprise. Dean’s hand went slack but he carried on staring at the bag in the trunk.

“Sorry. I just…”

“Dean, are you okay?” Sam looked at him worriedly before following his line of sight, “What are you..?”

The younger man quickly realized what Dean was intensely staring at and reached up with one hand to slam the trunk closed. However, Dean moved swiftly too and stopped Sam from closing it with his own hand.

“Sam, just let me take it!” He begged his brother as Sam tried to push the trunk door down against Dean, “I need it!”

“No Dean you don’t, you can do this!”

“I’m starving! Sammy, _I’m starving!!_ ” Cried Dean as he tried to elbow Sam aside and felt the bullet grind in his shoulder.

“Dean, stop it!” Tried Sam, dropping the med kit so that he could use both hands to close the trunk. It hit the ground and opened, sending its contents everywhere.

“I’M STARVING!” His brother yowled in distress, sounding so much like a pained animal that Sam almost let go just to help him.

But Sam saw sense and dragged the trunk door down. Dean slid down with it and sunk to the ground next to the open med kit in defeat. The younger man regained his breath and locked the car just to be safe.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Said Dean emotionlessly as he stared out at the highway.

Sam felt like he’d been punched in the gut and wondered if he should let Dean eat that putrid thing he’d allowed him to keep. Would it really help his brother? Or just damn him further?

“Lets just… God, Dean lets just go to the room and dress your arm. Please. Then maybe I’ll- I’ll bring it in for you.”

Dean looked up at him in shock, “What?”

Immediately Sam regretted saying it, but for the moment he was only tried to placate his brother so that he wouldn’t go into another terrifying out-of-his-mind-with-hunger rage again.

“You heard me. But first you need to let me fix you up.”

The younger man knelt down and started to pick up the scattered gauze and other equipment that had fallen out of the med kit. When Sam reached for the last item, the tweezers, Dean’s hand grabbed them before him and deposited it back in the box.

Sam offered him a grateful but sad smile and got to his feet. He waited for Dean to stand too and then walked with him to Room 11, with the med kit firmly tucked under his arm.

  


When they entered the room Sam instantly locked it behind them, pocketed the key, and walked into the bathroom in search of glasses. He found two sitting the right side up on a small plastic shelf above the sink, one had a dead black fly laying at the bottom of it.

Sam scrubbed both the glasses as clean as he could, filled one with water, and brought them out into the room where Dean was sitting patiently at the end of the queen-sized bed closest to the door. His jacket was shrugged halfway off but the older man seemed to be looking out at the parking lot, lost in some kind of memory. 

“Dean, you need some help?” Asked Sam as he set the two cups down on the night stand and opened up the med kit. 

“Heh, isn’t that the question of the year.” Drawled Dean, his eyes sliding away from the gridded window and down to his hands.

“Here.” Sam carefully manoeuvred Dean out of his jacket with difficultly before deciding it would be easier just to cut away the blood soaked sleeve of his flannel to get to the wound.

“Is there any whiskey in that kit?” 

“No. Sorry.”

“There’s gotta be a mini bar or something in this shit heap.” Said Dean, craning his neck around before spotting one under the TV. 

“Jackpot.” He grinned and moved to get up, but Sam stopped him and got up instead. He walked over to the mini bar and opened it to reveal a couple of miniatures and soda cans. The younger man gathered together all the alcohol and brought it over to Dean who immediately unscrewed one of the small bottles and poured half of it down his neck.

Sam went about cutting Dean’s shirt to reveal the bloody torn up bullet hole in his left shoulder. The younger man couldn’t help but mentally kick himself for not aiming better and as he examined the wound, Sam wondered how on earth the bullet hadn’t exited Dean’s scrawny arm. Dean payed no attention as Sam began to clean it up, he only continued making his way through the miniatures before laughing bitterly.

“What is it?” Inquired Sam whilst he sterilized the tweezers in preparation to pull out the bullet that was lodged in Dean. He was working slowly, procrastinating having to fish for that damn round that hadn’t hit the vampire.

“It’s _this_ Sammy.” Laughed Dean, gesturing at his new battle wound, “Another shoulder shot, just when I thought all the phantom pain was gone.”

Sam wiped away the blood that trickled out Dean’s shoulder with a cotton pad, “Phantom?”

“Yeah. Meg, Bella, and Hendrickson all took their shots at me there too. But you wouldn’t know it, not looking at my skin. Not after… Not after hell.”

“You were healed.” Sam answered quietly, readying the tweezers and swallowing hard. But Dean was beginning to shift in agitation. 

“More liked wiped clean. And then, how many more times where we wiped clean after that? Scars just vanishing away, like they never happened in the first place.”

His brother reached for another miniature of booze. Any other time Sam would have found it funny, seeing Dean drinking from the tiny bottles, but nothing really felt funny to him anymore. He just felt sick with concern.

“You mean, all the times we were healed?” Sam could have tried to distract Dean into sitting still, but he couldn’t help but question him further. “By a-angels?

“Uh-huh.” Nodded Dean, his eyes going dark at the mention of the word that Sam had struggled to force out. There were no winged creatures watching over them now, if there ever had been in the first place.

“Dad.” Dean blurted out, trying to stop thinking about the absence of angels and instead thought back to their father, “He used to have a story for each scar.”

Sam looked a little shocked at the sudden U-turn in the conversation but nodded back, “He did.”

“I understand now. How he felt.”

“What do you mean?” Asked his brother as he organized the stuff he needed to dig out the bullet, but made no moves to make a start on it.

“War, Sammy.” Said Dean bleakly, “Dad went to war.”

“We all went to war Dean.”

The older man dropped one of the small empty bottles to the floor and it bounced upon impact. “I mean ‘Nam. Echo company, 2/1.”

“Oh.”

“Jungle warfare, Sam.” 

Dean looked out the window again to the empty parking lot. His tone had been low when he spoke, making him sound so much like their father that Sam almost fumbled the tweezers again. 

“He never talked about it much, did he?” Remembered the younger man, though that could be said about John Winchester for any given subject. Stoic and silent on the outside, but torn apart by grief and fear inside.

“No. But I know, I know that he had to do whatever he could to survive. Just like I did.”

“Yeah and he kept surviving Dean, right until the very end.” Said Sam as he finally grabbed hold of the top of Dean’s injured shoulder, trying to both comfort and hold his brother still.

But Dean shook his head, “I don’t think I can.” 

“Dean, look at me.” Sam implored, trying to catch his wavering eyes, “You can.”

“Sam, I’m dangerous. Look what I did out there. If you had any sense you’d lock me up and throw away the key.”

“I guess I have no sense then.” Smiled Sam and inhaled deeply, “Let’s get that damn bullet out of your shoulder, that’s got to help right?"

“I can’t even feel it.”

Sam’s blood ran cold and he closed his eyes for a second, choosing to disregard what Dean had just said, before raising the tweezers to the wound and sinking them into the hole caused by the bullet. 

However, he couldn’t help but glance up at Dean, who was staring blankly at the ground as though nothing was happening. 

Sure, Dean had a high pain threshold, but this was something else. Sam worked quickly to find the stray bullet and pulled it loose with a sickening muted squelch that made the wound bleed freely again. Quickly, the hunter dropped the bullet into one of the glasses and clamped gauze over Dean’s shoulder and held it there, applying pressure.

“Okay. Okay. Stitches.” Muttered Sam, more to himself than anything as he thought through what was left to do. He felt sick to his stomach knowing that when he finished treating Dean’s injury, he would have to deliver on his promise.

As though reading his mind, Dean turned to him with his sunken looking face. He looked so emaciated and exhausted that Sam wanted to look away. Dean was right, he was starving to death.

“Sam?” Asked his brother desperately, “I need to…”

“I’m not done. And… and you could wait, you know? Wait till after New Orleans.” Pleaded Sam, trying his best to convince Dean he didn’t need to eat what was left of the monster hidden in the car.

Dean sighed, “What if there is no after New Orleans?”

“Don’t talk like that, all right? We’re going to find out how to make you better.” The younger man let go of his brothers shoulder, removed blood soaked gauze, and cleaned the wound again.

Dean watched him search for a needle and thread to stitch up the hole in his shoulder, “So now you’ve got faith in Benny's recommendation then?” 

“I’ll take faith where I can find it.” Deadpanned Sam as he concentrated on threading the needle.

He worked quickly, leaving five neat black stitches in his brother. Once again Dean hadn’t so much as flinched as Sam sewed him up, the only time he moved was to raise his right arm to drink from a rum miniature.

But when it was done and Sam had placed a clean dressing over his shoulder, he stood up.

“Sammy. I’m sorry.” He said as he moved towards the door, “But you’ve got to get it for me, please.”

The younger hunter truly didn’t know what to do. Every instinct told him he couldn’t let Dean eat anymore of the creature, that it would cause more harm than good. But he felt the key laying heavily in his pocket, as though it was willing him to go out and get the duffel bag.

And when he looked up at his starving brother, he made up his mind and stood up too.

“All right.” He answered simply and Dean closed his eyes in relief. However, when Sam got to the door he turned to Dean, “But you’ve got to promise me… This is the last time.”

His brother stared back, cogs moved ferociously in his head but his face stayed perfectly still. His mouth opened but he re-thought it and shut it again before finally speaking.

“Okay, it’s the last time.” He said, staring intently at his brother. 

  


Sam knew for a fact that Dean was lying, but it didn’t stop him unlocking the door.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


At 4:33 am the Toyota Corolla rolled back into the motel parking lot and Benny exited the vehicle to find Sam Winchester sitting on the curb outside Room 11.

It was only when Benny slammed the car door shut that Sam even noticed his arrival. The vampire hadn’t expected a warm homecoming when he returned all healed up from his blood run but the look that the tall hunter wore on his face was nothing short of devastating, even for him.

“Can’t be that bad.” He said, trying and failing to make Sam feel better.

“It’s worse.” Answered Sam bleakly as he stared down at his feet.

“Really?” Benny looked around, “Where’s Dean.”

Sam nodded his head back and said, “In there. Eating.”

“Oh. Got you.” Benny realized what that meant, and why Sam was sitting outside.

After a few minutes of awkward silence Sam suddenly looked up at him, his eyes impossibly wide.

“Is this woman-” His said in a desperate tone, “Is she really going to help?”

“She’s helped me in the past.”

“She never cured you though... turned you human again or whatever.”

Benny laughed a little and shook his head, “Heh, you got me there chief. No, Dominique never did that.”

“How will she cure Dean then?” Questioned Sam.

“Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. Like I said Sam, you need someone to assess the damage- that, she can do.”

Sam sighed in frustration and kicked at the dusty ground feeling like they were clutching at straws. 

He had tried to move on in the last year without Dean, choosing to believe his brother was in a better place. Taking the first shot at happiness and normality that came his way seemed so easy when to fight on aimlessly became harder and harder. He hadn’t known how to help Dean then, so he had ran. But now Benny had offered them the slightest possibility of hope, vampire or not, it was the only offer on the table.

“Will you go in and check on him?” Sam broached the subject carefully, “I don’t want to, you know…”

Benny nodded, figuring that the younger man didn’t want to see Dean chewing on whatever dead creature he had in there.

As the vampire walked to the door, he turned back to Sam.

“Hey- it’s one last stop right?” He said, trying to cheer Sam up. But the hunter was just left feeling cold at his choice of words.

The hard concrete curb beneath him was starting to become very uncomfortable. A few minutes after he heard the door close he figured it was safe to get up. He pushed up off the ground weakly and stumbled to his feet. 

Sam grabbed the window ledge to steady himself and heard Benny and Dean’s muffled voices from inside. He strained to make out what they were saying.

  


_“… can she do it?”_

_“…think so, brother… … comes from… … … She can walk between… … … will know … … …search your soul, and she’ll do it”_

_“… … … … won’t let … …”_

_“… Benny… … …for the best…”_

  


Just as Sam moved closer to the door it opened and out came Benny, holding the damp duffel bag that he handed over unceremoniously to the hunter.

“You might want to throw that out.” Suggested Benny, “And I wouldn’t look inside.”

Sam looked down to spot a perfectly clean broken piece of bone poking out of the bag and quickly fumbled at the fabric, trying to hide it from view.

“You ready to go?” The vampire asked as he began to walk to his hot-wired car, “The Big Easy’s a’ waiting.”

Before the hunter could point out that neither he nor Dean had gotten any sleep his brother emerged from the room, wiping at his mouth and looking a little less weak and nauseous than before. The same strange tightly wound look that he’d worn when Sam had first set eyes on him in his house back in Texas had returned to his face, as though he was expecting an ambush at any moment.

“Come on Sammy.” He said as he avoided Sam’s gaze and stalked towards the Impala, “No time like the present.”

Sam couldn’t help but stare slack-jawed at him for a moment before calling out indignantly, “Dean, you haven’t slept in God knows how long. I barely slept in Midland.”

Dean scoffed and turned around, “I’ll be fine. And you can sleep in the car if you really need to.”

“An hours sleep, that'll be helpful. Anyway, how can I do that if I’m driving?”

“Well you won’t be driving.” Smirked Dean when he got to the driver’s side, “I will.”

“I just went fishing for a bullet in your shoulder and sewed you up. You could pull the stitches.”

“Really Sam? Driving a car?” His brother was looking at him like he was being an overbearing mother, but Sam couldn’t help himself.

“The way you drive, yes you can.”

Dean stopped joking around and his face turned serious. He fixed Sam with a look that meant he wasn’t playing anymore.

“Listen. Me and Benny are going to ‘Orleans right now. Come with or stay here- it’s up to you.”

It was no choice at all. As if Sam was going to stay here and let his brother follow a vampire up to New Orleans to visit some Voodoo queen alone?

  


No, he was going. He probably couldn’t sleep now even if he wanted too.

  



	16. Where purgatory has its right beginning

*

#  ________________

  


  


Driving through the early dawn should have filled them with hope as though they were heading towards a new beginning. But the atmosphere throughout their relatively short journey to New Orleans felt tense and unwavering as though they were about to teeter off the edge of a pin.

As sun rays hit the windshield of the Impala and highlighted every spec of dust clinging to the glass, Sam glanced across at his brother. Dean squinted against the sun his eyes focused upon the Corolla in front of them that was leading them down to Bywater, driven by Benny.

The streets of the city were deserted and the weathered shutters that adorned most of the buildings were closed up tight. It felt almost dream-like to pass through. Despite the fact that that were travelling into the unknown, Sam couldn’t help but look through the window at the old streets. Benny also seemed to slow down as though he was also taking his time to look but Dean cut through the peace by honking loudly to make him speed up again.

Eventually they made it out to the Bywater neighborhood and Benny began to take sudden turns down random streets, causing Dean to swear constantly as he struggled to keep behind him. After going down a few alleyways that were way too small for the Impala and circling back around the block a couple of times, it seemed like Benny had finally found the right place just as Dean clipped a streetlight. He pulled on to a curb and Dean followed suit, but the look that was on his face had Sam scurrying to get out of the car before him.

Benny exited his own car, completely oblivious to how pissed off Dean was, and strolled over to the Impala. Sam was too late to get to Dean’s side of the car and the older hunter burst out, went to assess the damage that the streetlight had inflicted on his baby, then walked up to Benny and punched him straight in the face.

“Woah! What the hell?” Gasped Benny, clutching at his cheek.

“You couldn’t have drove in a _straight line_ to get us here!?” Dean yelled back.

“Hey the world has changed since I was last here.” The vampire looked up and down the rundown street, staring at the abandoned newspapers and trash lining the path. “I ain’t got a compass.”

Dean ignored the vampire and pointed at the line the streetlight had carved into the side of the Impala’s black paint, “Look at my goddamn car!”

“Dean, calm down. It’s only a scratch.” Said Sam quietly as he looked around, hoping they were not disturbing the street, when a deep authorative voice came from the house behind them that had all three men turning their heads towards its owner.

“You going to spend this fine morning fussin’ and fighting? Or are you going to step inside?”

Out on the porch of a shuttered up purple and red shotgun house stood a woman who Dean assumed was Dominique Delacroix, alive just as Benny had said. The dark skinned woman wore a long colorful dress and a green shawl with several gold crosses layered around her neck. Her decadent appearance clashed heavily with the weathered looking exterior of her house and she didn’t look like the men had awoken her at all. On the contrary, it looked as though she’d been waiting for them.

“Benjamin Lafitte as I live and breathe.” Smiled Dominique and beckoned the vampire forward. Benny walked up to the small house at the end of the road and embraced the old woman.

“Glad to see you’re still livin’ and breathin’ Domi.”

“Pfft, on borrowed time cher- on borrowed time.” She let go of Benny and glared down at the Winchesters, “Been waiting on you two, the spirits have been whispering 'bout you for a long while.”

Before Sam or Dean could answer, Dominique turned and walked back into her home through the open door that seemed to glow with the flickering yellow of candlelight. Benny followed her, waving for the men to follow. The two brothers shared a small look before walking up to the shotgun house and entering through the door and closing it behind them, shutting out the light of the morning.

  


The narrow corridor was adorned with all kinds of voodoo and catholic paraphernalia, various crosses and shelves full of offerings and candles lined the walls. The two men had to shuffle down the small area carefully to avoid knocking down anything. Benny stood in a doorway to the right, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. Sam’s breath was starting to waver a little at the strange otherworldly feel of the house and as the brothers entered Dominique’s living room, which was filled with several altars all piled high with tributes such as drink and money. Dean walked ahead of Sam and glared at the symbols carved into the plaster of the parts of the red walls that were visible.

Dominique stood in front of one of the largest symbols which resembled a cross on a platform with two small coffin shaped symbols either side of it. 

“I trust you brought offerings?” She spoke directly to Dean, but Sam answered for him.

“Erm, no. We’ve really gone to any one like…”

“-like me for help before huh?” Dominique raised an eyebrow, creating wrinkles on her forehead that were deepened by the low flickering light, and pointed towards the largest shrine lit by many melting candles.

“Coins, rum, tobacco, anything will do for now I guess- leave it at the altar.”

Sam and Dean started to search through their pockets for anything they could give. They moved aside abundances of hidden weapons but were hard up for cash. Dean had one final miniature from the hotel hidden in the pocket of his flannel and Sam cobbled together a handful of coins. They placed their pitiful offerings down by a box of cigars and looked up at Dominique apologetically. The woman looked back at them, her face expressionless, and shuffled forward.

“This one…” She said, her eyes narrowing as she searched Dean’s hollow face, “He’s travelled far.”

“You have no idea lady.” Dean gritted out against the overwhelming smells of incense and sweet alcohol that permeated the room.

At his reply Dominique suddenly shot forwards, covering the room in three large steps, and reached her hands up to clasp her palm against either side of Dean’s head. The hunter’s body suddenly went rigid at her touch and his eyes locked with hers.

“Hey!” Cried Sam in alarm, moving to help his brother. Before he could though, Benny’s hand shot out and stopped him.

“Wait Sam- don’t interrupt!”

Dean heard the vampire and his brother’s words as though they were coming from the very end of a long hallway. His eyes were glued to Dominique's, completely trapped. He saw the reflections of the candlelight in her eyes fade away before they went milky white. He tried to recoil as her irises were replaced with dull gray lines resembling a forest of dead trees. All around him he could hear movement… The rustling of leaves, the howls of monsters, screams of souls…

The sounds were just whispers, but they grew louder and louder, overwhelming him. Dominique’s eyes finally closed and Dean felt fleetingly thankful that he didn’t have to look into the trees that lined her eyes like bars. However, her grip on his head seemed to increase, making him feel like his skull was trapped inside a vice. Dominique searched through his mind, looked into his soul, and took a heavy shuddering breath.

“Done so much, so much.” She said, tears building in the corners of her tightly closed eyelids, “Burnt out your soul to survive.”

The screams were becoming unintelligible now, they turned to howls and barks. Now the room itself began to twist and Dominique let go of his head with a hiss, as though it burned her fingertips. The second she let go Dean's legs gave out below him and the hunter sank down to the floor. 

“Dean!” Yelled Sam and dove to save his brother from hitting the polished floorboards under them. Thankfully, he caught Dean and immediately started to shake him when he realized that Dean had passed out.

“Wake up! Come on Dean, wake up!” He tried tapping Dean’s face but he didn’t rouse. Sam stared down at him in disbelief before turning his attention harshly onto Dominique. 

“What did you do to him?”

“I looked into his spirit.” She replied calmly, but her hands still shook as she spoke, “His hunger, it’s lingering like a parasite. Purgatory was not built to house a human. It has worked a terrible sickness into Dean’s soul made all the worse by his consumption of the creatures that live there.”

Sam’s heart plummeted and he looked down at his brother who twitched in torment even now, “But you can fix it right? That’s what we came here for.”

Dominique’s face was so full of pity it almost shattered what was left of Sam. The woman kindly averted her gaze and looked up at Benny, who nodded at her knowingly without Sam seeing.

“We must open the crossroads for him.” Said the woman resolutely as she walked to a large wooden chest by one of the smaller shrines, “To see which way his spirit will go.”

Dominique opened the heavy chest and reached inside, gathering up black pillar candles along with a large bottle and curved knife with a bent point.

As Sam watched her, he heard Dean stir below him. The hunter looked down to see Dean’s eyelids fluttering.

“Hey Dean, are you with us?” Asked Sam, trying to angle him upright again.

Dean looked around blindly, the voices and howls still whispered to him but they sounded further away now. He caught Dominique’s knowing gaze as she walked past them to the doorway into the next room.

“Is she- is she-“ He muttered madly, clawing at Sam for purchase. 

Sam tried to still his brother but also had no answer to whatever question he was trying to ask. He felt paralyzed as he watched Dominique pull the cork out of the bottle and pour its contents directly onto the floor in the middle of the doorway. The smell of fresh rum hit his nostrils hard and he watched as the woman rhythmically shook out every last drop out of the bottle. 

He truly didn’t know what they were doing here, what this was achieving. Yes, faith and rituals had saved Dean in the past, but with it had come consequences that had devastated them in the aftermath.

 _Do the ends justify the means?_ He asked himself. It was a familiar question, one he'd asked himself a million times over when the copper taste of demon blood had lingered in his mouth.

Years later, he still didn’t know the answer.

  


Benny was helping Dean to his feet as Sam sat and pondered how far he was letting this go. The older hunter was unsteady, but he exchanged a look with Benny. It was one of understanding and finality. If Sam would have just caught it, it might have alerted him to what was to come.

In the doorway Dominique was lighting candles where the rum had been poured. Sam opened his mouth to object, but he found there was no trace of the alcohol left on the floorboards at all. It was as though someone had sucked it up from the floor.

Sam also got to his feet again and stood up in between Benny and Dean. All three of them watched as Dominique began to chant words they didn’t understand and tap out a beat on the empty bottle. Her movements became more frantic and she moved away from the doorway, turning her attention onto Dean.

The hand that held the bent knife pointed to him and without having to be told, Dean walked forward to stand in front of the empty doorway as Dominique started to yell so powerfully that Sam almost jumped out of his skin.

“Guinee! Guinee ah Guinee!” She cried loudly, making several candles blow out around the room, “I am servant of the spirits- TRAVÈR! Papa Legba, guardian of the crossroads- lock and key to the spirit world… Guinee! TRAVÈR c’est tout!”

The room began to shake violently, causing some of the offerings piled high on the alters to fall to the ground. Both Sam and Benny withdrew their own blades, ready for whatever threat may appear. Dean however, stayed still and ready in front of the doorway, staring into it as Dominique yelled.

All around them long gangling shadows began to form, prowling around the walls menacingly. Dean heard them speaking so clearly, the echoes of monsters he’d chopped down in the jungles of purgatory…

Now in the doorway small blue forks of lightning were beginning to appear, crackling loudly and raising the hairs of everyone in the room. At the lightnings appearance, Dominique ran forward and knelt down to carve a symbol onto the floor with her knife.

“Veve of Papa Legba, merci! Travèr c’est tout! Guide the spirit, bandonné this plane!” The woman yelled as she carved, the cadence of her voice sounding more and more like a song.

She suddenly shot upright as the symbol she carved began to light up with the same sapphire blue color that sparked at the center of the doorway. A gust began to blow threw it that ruffled Dean’s hair and clothes. He knew that a passage was opening.

Sam wanted desperately to pull his brother away and escape this house, but he held his ground even against the intense wind that was growing stronger and stronger as a blue tear started to form right in front of Dean and grew larger until it filled up the entire doorway. 

Dean’s expression changed suddenly from resolution to fear as soon as he saw the flashing sapphire portal. Dominique continued to chant but Dean turned to his brother with a horrifying look in his green eyes that Sam had never seen before. The whooshing of the wind from the portal was now so loud he couldn’t hear Dominique’s shouts from behind his brother even if he wanted to. All of Sam’s attention was focused on Dean. And all he could do was watch as his brother formed two agonizing words. 

  


“I’m sorry.”

  


Before Sam could act, Dean pulled a blade from out of his pocket and turned behind him to where Dominique stood and slit her throat in one clean fluid motion.

The woman froze as blood ran down her neck like water from a loose rivet. She made no frantic moves to stop the flow of blood. Instead she sunk down to the ground gracefully and her face tilled upwards towards the doorway. 

Sam heard her utter one last word as the blood pooled around her.

“ _Close._ ”

“No!” Screamed Sam in alarm as the blue portal began to collapse in on itself and Dean ran desperately towards it.

Benny tried to grab at Sam but the hunter elbowed him away and surged forwards. However, he lost his footing and hit the ground hard. The wind whipped around him as he tried to raise his head, searching for Dean.

“No Dean! Don’t do it, don’t do it!” He yelled madly, begging his brother not to pass through the doorway, hoping against hope that it would close before Dean had a chance to reach it.

Sam clawed at the ground and caught one final sight of his brother facing his way with the blue light closing all around him.

“No.” Sam whispered against the roaring of the wind. But it was too late.

  


The forks of blue lightning struck out from the edges of the doorway and the portal vanished, taking Dean along with it.

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


He didn’t know how long he spent lying on the floor staring at the empty doorway blankly, fulling expecting Dean to appear at any moment. The same sinking feeling of utter despair, loss, and confusion made a home in him again. Only a year had passed since Dean had vanished without a trace at the SucroCorp labs and now he was reliving the same nightmare again.

The only thing that eventually shook him out of his state of shock was the sound of someone’s footsteps leaving the room. Sam turned and caught Benny skulking out into the hall. Suddenly a fire built in Sam’s chest and he shot up, anger burning at the edges of his vision. He was on Benny in a second and pushed him into a wall, bashing his head off of a wooden shelf and sending the piled items upon it cascading to the floor. Sam angrily placed his forearm against his chest to pin him there and pressed with all his might.

“WHERE’S MY BROTHER!?!” He demanded, his jaw clenched in anger and desperation as he glowered at the vampire.

Benny didn’t fight back against Sam’s hold.

“Sam… You already know.”

They were the words he’d been dreading. Confirmation that Dean had voluntarily returned to a place that had twisted and contaminated him. 

Sam didn’t want to believe it.

“What?” He gasped, “No. _No_ , not back there.”

He was shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the image of Dean back in purgatory. Another mindless animal. 

The hunter’s arm fell to his side, freeing Benny from the wall. 

  


“It’s what he wanted.” 

 

  


** Baton Rouge: Three Hours earlier **

**  
**

  


_“Hey- it’s one last stop right?” Benny turned and said to Sam before he headed into Room 11 to fulfil the man’s request to check on his eating brother._

__

__

_There was no light on in the motel room when he entered it, but he could still see Dean Winchester through his vampiricaly enhanced vision. The hunter was crouched in the corner of the room, his head bowed low over the bones of an arm stripped of its flesh._

__

_He was so completely zoned out that he didn’t even register Benny’s arrival until the vampire was almost in front of him. Dean looked up in alarm at the figure, but Benny quickly reached over and flipped the light switch._

__

_“Oh. It’s just you.” Said Dean in relief._

__

_“Just be glad it ain’t your little brother. Not sure he’d want to see you like this.”_

__

_“Huh. Who does?” Laughed Dean darkly and reached over for the bloodstained duffel bag that lay at his feet. He stuffed the bones of the arm into it roughly._

__

_He was trying to hide it from view even though it was clear that he wanted to keep a hold of it. Through force of will though he kicked it away and looked up at the vampire._

__

_“I don’t belong here.” He said simply, “Sammy, he’s not safe. Not while I’m like this- no one is. There’s only one place left for me now.”_

_Benny looked at the man who was free of the grime and blood that had coated him like a second layer of skin during their time searching for their way out and he understood._

_“Purgatory.” He answered._

__

_Dean didn't acknowledge the word, instead he looked at the ground and traced the grain of the carpet with his finger, “This Dominique... the only way she can help is by sending me back there, can she do it?”_

__

_“I think so, brother.” Answered Benny truthfully, “ Her power comes from the Guinee, the spirit world. She can walk between worlds, open passages… Dominique will know what you want. Let her search your soul, and she’ll do it.”_

__

_Dean swallowed hard and pushed up against the wall in an effort to get to his feet._

__

“ _And you won’t let Sam interfere?” Dean asked him when he was standing. Benny took a moment to consider how much he owed this hunter, even after he left him trapped in his body for days on end, and couldn’t help but nod grimly._

__

_The man almost sunk back down to the ground at Benny’s agreement and let out a deep exhale. He looked worried, scared even, but Benny could tell this was what he wanted._

__

_“It’s for the best Benny, you gotta tell him that. It’s for the best.”_

 

  


  


Sam stumbled backwards, away from Benny, in a daze. He couldn’t help but look behind him into the room they’d just exited. Naively, Sam almost convinced himself he would see Dean standing in the doorway with a cocky smile on his face. But instead there was no one. 

No one except Dominique’s body lying on the floor.

“W-why?” Asked Sam suddenly at the pool of blood surrounding her, “Why did he…?”

Benny’s face dropped as he too looked at the woman, feeling responsible for the lengths Dean had gone to to at least try and make this permanent, “Best guess, so that you couldn’t make her re-open the doorway.”

The hunter felt the anger inside him boil over again and before he knew it, he had raised a knife to Benny’s throat.

He held it against his neck threateningly but kept it steady. 

“You going to kill me Sam?” Asked the vampire in a calm voice.

“You got him out once, you could do it again.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment in the near darkness. Before Sam could take a swing at Benny’s neck the vampire kicked out at his legs, sending Sam backwards onto his ass. The hunter fell heavily to the floor and Benny made a run for it. He bolted towards the front door and threw it open, causing the bright sun light to flood through the hallway.

Both men threw up their hands to try and blot out the blinding light for a moment but Benny persevered through it, snarling as he carried on running out into the street and to his car.

Sam was soon bolting out of the door towards him but Benny had a good head start. He got to the Corolla and lock himself inside well before Sam smashed into the side of it and started to pound heavily on the window.

“You did this!” Cried Sam as he began to throw punches at the glass, causing it to crack but not break, “You brought us here!”

Benny tried to ignore the guilt he felt as he started the car from the wires that Dean had stripped for him. He truly hoped that the man had made the right choice. Whether or not he had, Benny couldn’t say. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let Sam send him back to purgatory to find out.

“COWARD!” Sam yelled as the engine started and Benny began to pull away. The hunter carried on hitting the car desperately and ran after it for as long as he could. But eventually Sam couldn’t keep up with it anymore and Benny drove off out of the deserted street, leaving the younger man to fall to the ground in exhaustion with his knuckles bloody.

“Coward! You g-goddamn c-c-coward.” He panted heavily, kneeling in the middle of the road like a man awaiting execution.

“God. Dean.” Sam mumbled out brokenly into the empty street, “What have you done?”

  


  


* * * * * * * * 

  


  


There were rumors, frightened frantic whispering between monsters, that the human who’d pulled off the impossible and escaped from their dark forest had returned with his appetite doubled.

  


Bodies of monsters with missing flesh began appearing in their dozens, discarded behind perhaps to warn, perhaps to terrify. The creatures who had not yet been sent insane by hunger were now driven insane by fear of the human appearing out of the shadows and feasting on them.

  


Dean Winchester once again began to forget who he was in the endless cycle of hunting and skinning. He only knew that it was safest for him here. Away from his own kind, from his own kin.

  


He tore apart the monsters here with increasing ease and carcasses soon littered the forest’s dusty ground. 

  


Purgatory truly was a graveyard now.

  


  


Not even an angel could turn a blind eye to it.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm no expert on voodoo, nor do I claim to be, but here are some of the creole french words that Dominique said:
> 
> bandonné - abandon
> 
> travèr - across
> 
> C’est tout - that's all
> 
> And that is all! Or is it? I know we've come full circle and ended on a depressing note (I tend to do that a lot- I just like tragedy) but I feel like there's potential for a follow up fic...
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this story and thank you so much for reading and leaving comments and kudos!


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